Sarah and the Goblin King
by Chibi-no-oneesan
Summary: A present for the daughter who held the family together goes horribly wrong, and Robert finds himself given an ultimatum. Convince his daughter to return to a strange manor in his place...or suffer the consequences of his actions. SxJ
1. Chapter 1

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 1

Once Upon a Time...

There should be a legal limit to bad luck, Robert Williams decided as he slammed the door to his car shut, his face lined with frustration and age that hadn't been so obvious a few years ago. Then again, life had a way of throwing unexpected curve balls at one, and since 1996, the Williams family had seen more than their fair share.

Many of his colleagues at the time had sworn it was a streak of bad luck.

His daughter, however, stated that it was probably something more akin to a curse. Then again, his Sarah was always a little different. Up until she was fifteen, she'd been an inconsolable brat, and then one day, seemingly out of the blue, she changed. She began to take an interest in her brother, in her step-mother, in life.

That day had been nearly fourteen years ago now, on September seventeenth. Since then, on that night, Sarah would disappear into her room for a long time, until she would eventually return to the family, looking quiet, thoughtful.

Eventually, she went off to school, working towards a degree in Library sciences, working part time to pay of her student loans as she attended school full time. She never finished her degree. The final year she was in college was the year the family started having all of their problems. Countless law suits sent their family into the negative, and Sarah returned the money for the final year to the lenders, promising to pay off the rest of the loan as quickly as possible.

Sarah Williams returned to her broken family, finding her father nearly hopeless, steeping himself in alcohol, her step-mother on anti-depressants, and Toby very angry about why he couldn't have the expensive toy he wanted for Christmas.

That was when Robert Williams became aware of how much his daughter had changed from the petulant brat she'd been in the early years of her adolescence.

She came home, and took on two jobs, paying off her student loans and creditors who were demanding money from him. She came home and made sure that Toby did his homework. When they lost the house, she helped pack what they could bring along and took the things that didn't have sentimental value to a pawn shop.

She became the strength that supported the family as he tried to get his feet back underneath him.

They moved out of the suburbs, farther into the country, and he eventually became a district attorney, rather than the defense lawyer he had been. The streak of bad luck seemed to be easing up, he even was requested to oversee the defense of a high profile case, which easily could have put them back into the green.

That had been why he had driven back into the city this week. Karen had been thrilled, quietly asking that he bring her back some pretty bauble and Toby had demanded the latest video game. Only Sarah had been reserved, pleased with the seeming good luck, but had asked for nothing. He had prompted her, asked what she thought she might want.

She'd given him a faint, wistful smile, and said that she would like a new book. Something unique, that she hadn't already read.

It was so her, that he couldn't object. It was just a part of her nature. Maybe a first edition Peter Pan would be available in the bookstore near the police station.

Unfortunately, this case was distressingly similar to the last case he had defended, and so, upon listening to the facts from the man, he asked the hard question. If the man was guilty or if he was innocent. The man laughed and said that he'd done it, and enjoyed it. That's why he was hiring the best defense attorney.

Robert had walked out of the room then and there, refusing to serve as his lawyer. He'd headed home without the baubles for his wife or the game for his son. He'd searched for a book that his daughter might not have, since hers was the least expensive request, but he could find nothing. So, empty handed and broken hearted, he went to his car and left the city.

The freak snowstorm had caught him unawares, so steeped was he in his own misery. He caught a slippery patch and his car went off the rode, hit a tree, and the trusty old station wagon promptly died. Which led to where he was currently, trudging through the snow, wrapped in a coat that wasn't thick enough to defend against the chill, wondering if this was how his saga would end. He would freeze to death out here in the snow, leaving his family penniless and alone.

Still, he wondered if it wasn't better to die out here, rather than return and face the disappointment on their faces.

He'd walked for what felt like forever, when a light caught his eye. He smiled grimly, thinking that it was the light at the end of the tunnel of death, and began to follow it through the trees. However, what he found instead was a tall wrought iron gate with large lanterns on either side. The gates swung open as though in welcome, causing him to jump in fear before he moved slowly past them.

The drive was surprisingly completely clear of snow, and the sky seemed stuck at an orange shade of dusk. Trees heavy with peaches and blossoms lined the driveway. Somehow, someway, despite the fierce winter outside these gates, within was the warmth and peace of a mild summer. At the end of the drive was a large manor house, something that reminded him of a castle from the Victorian era.

"I must be dreaming..." he mused quietly. "Or dead already..."

The walk up the drive wasn't long at all, even in spite of his aching feet, and when he reached the front door, it swung open much as the gates had, inviting him within. He stepped within and paused as the door shut behind him. A shiver worked through his body and he realized he was chilled nearly to the bone. He chaffed his arms with his hands, hoping to use friction to create warmth in them.

As he moved further within, still not entirely certain that he wasn't dreaming, the warm glow of a fire caught his attention and the emanating warmth drew him towards it. The room was lavishly decorated, with thick carpets, cozy looking chairs, and a huge fireplace – complete with a cheerfully roaring fire.

He wasted little time shrugging out of his soaked coat, letting it fall where it may. He climbed into the chair closest to the fire, still shivering uncontrollably. A blanket tucked around him and he froze, eyes searching for whomever might have placed it on him.

The room was still empty save himself.

Well, he decided. That was creepy as hell.

Still, he wasn't about to balk in the face of who or whatever had chosen to permit his entry into this grand home. It took quite awhile for him to overcome his fear, but eventually, he relaxed enough to doze in the comfortable chair.

He must have slept for quite awhile, because once he woke, the world outside the room was quite dark, the sky hazy and slightly purple through the window. He discovered himself much more well rested and the cold seemed to be nothing more than a bitter memory. He rose from the chair, deciding that it shouldn't cause any harm to do a little exploring.

For the first time in ages, Robert Williams was reminded of his childhood, of exploring the forest behind his families home in Maine. It was a little adventure, a dream come true. He wondered briefly if this was how Sarah had always felt as she play-acted in the park near their old family home. His bright-eyed daughter, who had helped them so much.

The sheer amount of wealth around him was amazing, and he would be lying to say that it did not cause the faintest twinge of envy that the unknown person who lived here had so much, while he and his family had so little remaining. The vast home was everything he could ever want for his own family and he wished that he could meet his host to ask permission to take just a fraction of the riches he found with him in order to return his family to it's former state.

It was an unnerving place, however, and he couldn't imagine living there himself. It was so vast, so great, yet seemed so dreadfully empty. He knew, however, that it was occupied. Besides the strange event with the blanket, there was also the fact that almost everywhere he went he could feel a steady gaze upon him, felt a presence in every room. He also often heard giggling coming from nearby, around corners, however when he pursued the noise, he found nothing at all.

Finally, he came upon a great dining room and he found an impressive spread of food before him. Glancing around for his host, he jumped to see a chair pulled away from the table by invisible hands. Once again, the invitation was obvious. He sat down and food served itself on a plate that he could only assume was made of gold.

What a silly thing to make a plate out of, Robert thought, even as he lifted the first bite to his mouth. Don't these people know that gold is poisonous when ingested?

Regardless, Robert ate heartily, choking on every mouthful from the guilty knowledge that his family could not share in such a meal and were likely eating whatever Sarah and Karen managed to throw together on the small amount of money that remained for groceries after bills were paid each month.

After he had eaten his fill, he resumed his exploration of the great manor. Eventually, his inspection took him to the second floor, where he found a room with a pair of pajamas already laid out over the bed. He pondered the wisdom of sleeping in this mysterious place, where someone obviously must live and he was, frankly, trespassing. His body was exhausted and eventually won the battle with his mind.

He stripped from his own clothing, laying them neatly in a chair as he did at home, though the chair was much finer than anything that graced his house these days. He slipped into the pajamas and turned in time to see the blankets apparently draw themselves back. Again, an invitation he could not ignore. "Whatever benevolent creature that is looking over me right now, I thank you," Robert said quietly. He climbed into the bed and had one more thought as he drifted off into his dreams.

He only hoped his families luck was as good.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

He woke the next day – well rested and in remarkably good spirits – to the sound of water running in an adjoining room and rose from the bed to investigate the noise. He found a bathroom more extravagant than even Karen could dream up, and couldn't resist shedding the pajama and slipping into the shower. He took his time getting cleaned up, finding towels had been set silently upon the vanity within the bathroom. He dried himself and returned to the bedroom, finding his clothes had been laundered at some point during the evening and were hanging on a hanger with the same care that his wife would use.

He fingered his blazer, his face becoming a bit melancholy. If only he could take just one or two things home with him, just a few things to ease the burden on his family. Had he taken that case, even to save his family, he would have compromised his morals, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to look at any of them in the face for a long, long time. With a heavy sigh, he began to dress, deciding to go in search of his elusive host, if for no other reason, to thank him for his hospitality.

He was searching high and low when he found a vast library, filled from top to bottom with books. He wandered the room, awed of the collection. His daughter would be so at home in this place, he thought smiling faintly. He wandered the titles pulling out a few and browsing them. Finally, he happened upon a book of Celtic Faery Lore, told in such a way even his own logical brain could almost believe it. He couldn't believe what a find this was. He knew for certain that his daughter would adore it.

Slowly, he sat upon a chair, flipping through the pages. After everything his host had already done for him, he doubted that the man would begrudge him a book to give his daughter, especially with such a large collection. And Sarah would love it so dearly. She would treasure it. He stood, slipping the book into the large pocket of his coat as he left the room.

He continued wandering, however he never found the mysterious host, nor any other hint of a human being. He still felt the eyes upon him wherever he went, still heard those strange noises that sounded like giggles and laughter. Finally, he gave up looking. If he dawdled too much longer, his family would worry for him, and he didn't want that. So he began heading for the front door of the castle.

He had scarcely taken one foot outside the door when they slammed shut at his back and there was an almost thunderous flapping of what sounded like wings. A surge of fear hit the man and he backed into the closed doors as he was dive-bombed by a barn owl.

While his mind was busy trying to process what on earth a nocturnal creature was doing out in daylight, feathers turned into fabric and hair, and Robert found himself looking into the face of a furiously pissed off man. That face was odd. It was strange, feral, like someone who was putting on a mask that wasn't quite right. On that face was a look that screamed of pain and suffering that would soon be brought upon him.

Now, Robert Williams was no coward, but in the face of that anger, he couldn't help but shrink away.

"I allow you into my home," the man began, his wild blond hair becoming streaked with darkness. "I shower you with hospitality...and how do you repay my generosity?!" The house seemed to shudder in the face of the man's anger and Robert could only stare in disbelief as even the man's clothing became dark and foreboding. "By stealing from me..."

There was such loathing in the creature's voice as he condemned Robert that the mortal man found himself trembling in fear. "I truly meant no insult-"

"It matters not! You steal, so you shall suffer the consequences of your actions. Eye for an eye and all that..."

Grief filled the man as he watched the man lift a hand, a perfectly spherical crystal forming upon it and he remembered his thoughts the day before, how his family would be left alone, with no one to take care of them, leaving Sarah to struggle for the rest of her life to dig the family out of the hole he put them in. "Please, sir," he spoke softly. "I meant no harm. My own foolishness and arrogance put me in this situation, and I beg your pardon." Once again, he was reminded that the reason that he had always been such a good lawyer was because he could speak convincingly. Much like when his daughter told her tales, he could make people want to believe him. His daughter...

He whispered a mental apology to her for dragging her into this. "My family is barely making ends meet, and I am the primary source of income. The only reason we are able to afford food is because my daughter works two jobs to provide for that. My funds are drained between bills and countless law suits filed against me. I took the book as a present for her. My wife and son asked for useless things, things that they would toss aside within weeks, but my daughter...she treasures books. It was all she asked for, and she has done so much for our family that I wanted to get it for her, even if I had to steal to do it."

Shrewd eyes regarded him. "A daughter," he repeated, obviously disbelieving.

Robert pulled out his wallet, his hands shaking as he did so. He flipped it open to a picture of his family, thrusting it before the man in front of him. The picture was old, taken shortly before his daughter had left for college. "My daughter, Sarah. She is the only reason the family hasn't fallen apart yet. She works hard, trying to help support us, but it's not enough by itself. She sacrificed her future to save her family, and I wanted to bring her something nice."

"Silence," the man said, his voice oddly rough. "I will spare your life on one condition, thief. You may return home for one week. You have until then to convince this daughter of yours to come here and take your place. If you do not, I will extract my punishment from you at the end of that week." He turned, preparing to leave, only to briefly pause. "Consider it a curse upon you. Take the book to your daughter. Since you claim she will treasure it, hope she treasures you as much."

Robert felt grief grip him as he realized what was being asked of him. His life for Sarah's. His head hung. "How could I possibly send my daughter here as sacrifice?! Just so I might live a few years longer?! You must be joking!"

The man – or whatever he was – looked moderately annoyed with him and rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a fool. You said your family needs you. I will punish your daughter, however I'm not a monster. Her punishment will be weighed by her courage as well as the fact that she is a woman." Something in those mis-matched eyes did not give Robert Williams any comfort, however and he wondered if perhaps this punishment would truly be fair.

Still...Robert straightened, although he could still feel fear clawing at his belly. "I will not trick her and I will not force her. If she says no, I will return and you may extract whatever punishment you see fit." He fisted his hands at his thighs and Robert saw the briefest flash of temper before something else shone in those eyes. A sort of tired, exasperated amusement.

When the man spoke once again, he averted his gaze, a faint smirk pulling at his lips. "Brave words. I cannot complain, however. It would be vastly disappointing if she didn't come of her own choice..." Then, the man seemed to disappear as a barn owl flew away through the air. Moments after it was gone, an echo of the man's voice reached his ears. "Don't forget your promise, Robert Williams. I shall hold you to it..."

Slowly, Robert slid down the wall, his stomach twisting violently and his breath hitched as the first hysterical sob left him. He fisted his hands and pressed them against his eyes, wondering what on earth he was going to do.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah paced the floor while her step mother and half brother slept on the couch under the blanket she'd placed over them ages ago. She wasn't at all surprised when they finally gave into the sweet pull of sleep around two thirty in the morning, but until her father walked through the door, she wouldn't be able to.

He was late.

Robert Williams was something of the predictable sort, even now, with his life in chaos. He always walked out the door in the morning at seven o'clock and walked back in at six. He was stable, constant. The only time she'd ever seen him chaotic in her life was just after the family realized it was going under and she'd returned from school to help them.

It was the only time she'd ever seen the man cry. He'd been so worried about all of them, Toby especially. The boy still wasn't old enough to fully grasp what was going on, and since they had lost all their money, the boy had grown petulant about not being able to get the toys he wanted. He'd mourned the knowledge that it was unlikely he would be able to put the boy through college, which started in only a few more years.

Sarah had listened quietly while her father poured out his woes and when he was done and had begun simply sobbing into his hands, she reached out and took his. "I understand that it hurts, dad, but what good are you doing Toby locked away in here crying with a bottle in your hand? If you want to do right by them, you have to stop pitying yourself and you need to get back to work."

After that, it was like a light went on in him, and he started energetically trying to save what they could. He had to sit down with her younger brother and have a long talk about what sentimental value was and how things with monetary value could eventually be bought back.

Sarah had helped the unhappy boy pack his toys, his unused games, clothing that no longer fit, away in boxes, listening to him blame his father for all of his woes. It was a painfully familiar tune. She just gave him a sad smile and told him that their father was trying their best, and so was she. Rather than getting angry about not being able to have a bunch of stuff he didn't use or really want, maybe he should think about getting a paper route so that he could have extra pocket money to buy things for himself.

Karen had been outraged at the suggestion, but Sarah pointed out that having to earn money for himself might show the child how difficult it was for Robert right now. Karen, chastened herself, began to mournfully box up designer purses, watches, jewelery, and clothing. Sarah herself went into her room, barely changed from when she was fifteen, and began boxing up things that didn't have sentimental value. Periodically, she'd call upon Hoggle, Sir Didymus and Ludo, just so that she could drop the facade of being strong.

Several times she wept bitterly into their shoulders, not really certain what they were going to do. The law suits were piling up and it seemed every judge saw fit to find in favor of the accusers. One case had broken her father's streak, and it seemed to her that their family had been cursed due to it. One man who promised he was innocent, who her father truly believed was innocent, and it turned out in the middle of the trial that evidence existed that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was guilty.

Families of victims who never got closure because her father was such a good defense attorney began filing civil suits against him, one after another, until the family finally buckled under the weight. His firm 'letting him go' was the final straw that sent the family into the ditch she'd found them in. It was very fortunate that she was such a great actress, otherwise they would know how much it really hurt her to stop her degree when she was so close to finishing.

Still, she loved her family, and now, four years since then, she realized that it was a sacrifice worth making. Toby was turning into a more responsible young man, rather than being angry and petulant about not getting exactly what he wanted for Christmas or birthdays, he scrimped and saved from his paper route so that he could occasionally give his mother a present to thank her for taking care of the house, the chores, and even him. Karen still sometimes had trouble shouldering the burden and Sarah knew that she appreciated every attempt that her son made.

Karen, much like Toby, had been born into a wealthy family, so she never really knew the hardship of being poor. She always said that if someone was poor, they should go get a better job, not knowing that sometimes that was impossible. It wasn't until the long-time housewife tried to get a job of her own that she realized that things like that were fluid and difficult to maintain, especially when they pulled you away from the home that you had always struggled to keep. After six months, the woman decided that she could not be super mom and quit her job, in favor of staying home and doing what she knew best.

Sarah didn't begrudge her decision. Karen did not know retail, she didn't know secretarial, but she knew how to run a household, and that in itself was a full time job with a teenager and a husband.

So Sarah herself worked two jobs, one as a secretary, the other during evenings as a bartender, pulling in lower wages than could make the family comfortable with the leeches that were constantly bleeding their funds dry. She was often exhausted, sometimes afraid to drive home at night for fear that she would fall asleep. She also had to drive away stalkers that tried to follow her from her job at the local bar.

She got to know the bouncer, Bill, rather well, since he walked her to her car most evenings.

Her father didn't like her second job, didn't like the hours that she had to work, but sometimes, one didn't have a choice of profession. Sometimes, you had to just take what you could get.

Her thoughts, having returned to her father once more, began to fret again. He'd told them, "around midnight on Saturday," but here it was eight o'clock, and her father was still not home.

Karen and Toby had long since fallen into an exhausted sleep on the couch, but not her. She knew she wouldn't sleep soundly until she knew that everything was okay. Sarah glanced towards her brother and step-mother, seeing that their blanket had slumped to the floor. She scooped it up and covered them with it carefully. Bleary blue eyes opened, looking up at her in confusion.

"Dad?" Toby mumbled.

"It's okay, he'll be home soon," she whispered softly. "Go back to sleep."

He shook his head stubbornly, his wild hair falling in front of his eyes. "I'll stay up with you..." he said as he struggled into a more upright position. "What time is it?"

Sarah glanced at clock on the stove and gave him a weary smile. "Almost nine now."

Those blue eyes seemed to look right through her. Her baby brother often saw more than he let on to the adults in their lives. "You haven't slept."

She sat down, put her head in her hands. "I can't. I tried for awhile, but I keep worrying..."

"About dad?"

She gave him a small smile. "And us."

He inclined his head, as though he didn't understand. It was such an owlish movement that a shiver crawled up her back. Right there, with his brow raised in confusion, head cocked to the side and his hair so wild, he reminded her of a night fourteen years ago, of a man she'd be hard pressed to forget. She suppressed the shiver of fear and the worry that had remained all these years that maybe her brother had not come away from the particular event fully unchanged.

After a long moment, she responded to his unspoken question. "I still have college loans to pay off. Neither of my jobs are enough to support us, and together they still don't even come close. Dad's accounts are bled nearly dry because of all the civil suits. If anything happened to him..." she shook her head.

She saw the understanding dawn on her brother's face. He reached forward, placing a hand on hers, his blue eyes worried. She knew he could see the strain that helping support the family had put upon her over the past four years. She turned her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, not meeting his gaze, keeping her calm mask plastered in place.

She wasn't sure when she became so good at hiding her feelings. One day she was dealing with her at the time steady boyfriend, letting him slobber on her neck and she realized that she didn't feel...anything. No excitement, no warm tingle. She had been completely in control of herself.

After that, she noticed that she wore masks around other people, people she loved, people from school and work, even her closest family. The only people who saw her without the mask were her friends from the Labyrinth, because they noticed every time she was wearing one. Especially Hoggle. She also knew that on the anniversary of her trip through the Labyrinth, she couldn't fake her emotions. That night, she would crawl into her bed, and pull out the worn red leather book from the drawer she'd since kept it in. She would read the book from cover to cover in the time she was sequestered away from the world.

Her father told her she always looked a little lost in thought those evenings when she'd finally emerge. In all honesty, she usually was. Her mind would race along the path of what could have been. It wasn't until later that she really knew what had been said, after she'd spoken to Hoggle about a week later and learned that the King had locked himself away in the Esher room for days.

She hadn't really asked about him since. She was honestly something of a coward, and was afraid to know how the life of the Goblin King might have gone. Still, she often wondered: was he married, had he fallen in love with one of his own kind. What had happened to the Goblin King of her youth?

She had cared for him, there was no point in denying that. In her own way, she probably had even loved him, which was why she had never asked. She didn't think she could face the pain of knowing that he had moved on. After all, while she had periodically dated a few boys, none of the relationships were particularly serious. Her mind always returned to the ethereal beauty of the creature named Jareth, and she knew that he had spoiled her for all mortal men.

It wasn't so much his looks. His face had revealed age and wisdom, yet he had seemed young and childish and spoiled as well. He had always seemed to be ageless, constantly riding the flow of time. In her parents' bedroom, he had appeared to be a villain, then in the tunnels he came to her as a flirt. When she danced in his arms in the crystal ballroom, he had been Prince Charming.

However he may have seemed during those first two encounters, it were the last two that stood out in her mind the most.

Him facing her in the Escher room, looking taunting and cold, but now she could remember a desperation in his eyes. Then, when the world had turned upside down, he looked so tired. His face seemed almost lined with age, his words and eyes sincere. His voice had been so gentle.

She had, of course, told herself that it was simply a ploy, the last desperate move in the game before checkmate. In hindsight, however...

"You look sad, Sarah."

She startled out of her thoughts, her eyes jerking towards her little brother. She realized that she'd been so engrossed in thought that her mask had slipped and she hurriedly covered the sadness she felt with a smile for Toby. "Maybe a little," she admitted, then stood, moving into the kitchen and pulling down the tea kettle.

She had just finished making a few cups of tea when she heard the key scrape in the lock and She bolted from the kitchen, waiting behind her brother's chair as the door swung open, revealing her weary and war torn looking father. "Daddy..." she whispered, moving swiftly around the chair and hugging him tightly. A moment later, she broke the embrace and whacked him on the arm. "We were worried!"

His father lifted his face, looking tired and bleak, and she felt a strange fear grip her. "Daddy...?"

He staggered past her, collapsing into a chair and reaching into the bag he had taken with him, pulling out a book that he handed towards her. "Your book, Sarah. Although you can't possibly know what it will cost us."

Fear grabbed her and she dropped to her knees. Her hands mechanically reached forward and took the book. "Daddy, what are you talking about?" Her father's blue eyes lifted to her and she saw every line that age had etched onto his skin, which was so like her own. He heaved a sigh, and tilted his head back, as Toby came towards him and looked from one to the other in confusion.

"Dad?"

Moments later, Karen stirred and she threw her arms around Robert Williams before he could really answer their confusion. She began rambling off questions of where he had been, what had happened while he was away in town and Robert seemed to sink into a depression of sorts. After a long moment, he began to speak.

"The man I was to defend was guilty," he began, his voice thick with despair. "The case was painfully similar to the one that...started this mess we're in so I refused to take it. The man was very angry. It is funny, how despite our fall, I'm still considered the best defense attorney. He threatened me, but I walked out. I truly hope he is found guilty. If I could prosecute him, I would." He shook his head, and his eyes took on a faraway look.

"I was depressed, I was worried, and I was distracted. I hit some black ice and the car went off the road. It died, and I decided to walk. I knew I couldn't be far from a rest stop or something. However...I found a mansion surrounded by trees, surrounded by wrought iron gates. Within, I was waited on by servants I could not see, guest to a host who did not make himself known.

"I should have just thanked my host and left, tried to make my way home through the snow, but I just had to go try to find him. The place was fantastic, like a mixing place between something out of a faery tale and reality. However, in the process of my exploration, I offended the creature who resides there..."

This story brought flickers of memory to Sarah, was like a tale she quite remembered reading as a child and her heart squeezed. "You stole something...something for a daughter."

Every pair of eyes fixated on her. Sarah held the book in her lap, looking up at her father, suddenly seeing where this little story of his was going. Slowly, Robert nodded. "There were so many, I didn't see the harm in taking just one for the daughter who had done so much for the family. So I took one." He shivered faintly. "That was when my host made himself known. He was more animal than man. I'm not certain he really was human. His features were feral, wild, like an...ill-fitting mask. I don't know how to explain it."

Karen gave him a skeptical look, the only one in the house who seemed to not quite believe what Robert was saying to them. Her lips tightened into a pursed look and she rested a hand on her husband's arm gently. "Robert, are you sure you didn't just...dream it?"

Robert tore his arm away. "Dammit, if I had dreamed it, I wouldn't be this scared. It was...too real to be a dream. I'm not going crazy, and I'm not a fool. He was standing before me as solid and real as any of you are now!"

La Belle et le Bete...

The name of the story came to her quite suddenly and she stood, moving away from her family, cradling the book to her chest. She knew without hearing what else was going to be said. She went back into the kitchen and poured a fourth cup of tea, then brought the tray out.

Toby and Karen looked worried and confused. Karen was still quietly asking her husband if there was even the barest possibility that he had made some sort of mistake. Robert continued to say that he hadn't. Toby, however, seemed to be the only one to notice how quiet Sarah had become, how introspective, watching her quietly, his blue eyes bright with worry.

Once everyone had dressed theirs, she took a long sip, wondering what to say in response to the story. "In school, I often heard people talking about fiction emulating life or life emulating fiction. A long time ago, a Frenchwoman wrote a tale about a merchants daughter who asks that her father, who was going away to recover the family fortune, to return with a single rose." She saw recognition flash in her brother's eyes and he would have spoken if she had not plowed ahead. "His creditors had taken the ship to pay for his debts, and so he made to return home, as destitute as when he had left. Along the way, he got lost and found his way to a place where, despite the cold winter beyond, was caught in a permanent summer...

"He was waited upon by servants that he could not see, guest to an unknown host. He was well fed, kept very warm, until the next day, when he began to wander the castle and indulged himself by imagining that all this was meant for him and his family. However, he had to return home to his family, and as he finally set about trying to find the stables, he happened upon a rose bush. He remembered his daughter's words and harvested a single, perfect rose.

"A great and terrible noise came from behind him and he turned, terrified to find a horrible beast standing there. The beast, furious at the theft, demanded that the merchant pay for it with his life. The merchant, desperate and fearing for his family, begged to be spared, and explained all of his woes. The beast told the frightened man that he had one month to convince one of his daughters to return in his place or his life was forfeit..."

As she reached that point, Robert shook his head. "Seven days. He said that if I hadn't returned by the end of the week, I would die on the seventh day...

"How can he find you?!" Karen gasped in fear. "And in seven days at that?!"

Toby looked towards Sarah, who still looked upon them with a look of calm and gentleness that didn't reflect the fear she felt swirling inside of her.

"The merchant returned home, his heart heavier now with the sentence of death upon him. Upon returning, he gave his daughter her gift and told the family what had happened. Two of the sisters blamed her wish. Her brothers plotted to kill the beast. However, the youngest daughter stated that since it was her fault that such a fate awaited her father, she would return to the castle in his stead."

Robert exploded up from the sofa. "No, Sarah. I would rather die. The things he allowed me to take will be enough to provide for you and the others. I am not going to allow that _thing_ hurt my daughter-"

Karen also spoke, her eyes bright with worry. "Sarah, you have no way of knowing what that man might do to you! You are putting your faith in a fairy tale!"

She looked towards him. "You guys can't stop me and you can't change my mind. Toby is nearly fifteen now, Karen doesn't need my help anymore. Dad, you are the one the family needs right now, and I will not let you sacrifice yourself when there's another option. Maybe when I get there, the story will diverge from Madame le Villeneuve's. However, you are too important to the family for me to let you go back to die."

She saw her brother stand and she moved towards him, hugging the younger boy gently. "Sarah, that story...The girl falls in love with the beast-"

"That'll be quite impossible for me," Sarah said softly, smiling at her little brother. "My heart was stolen fourteen years ago."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

To Be Continued...

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

_AN: Somehow, I don't think this is going to be as simple as Sarah seems to think it will..._

_I considered several things before settling on a book to replace the rose from the original tale. Another thing I considered was a peach. It being a growing item, it seemed a good replacement for roses, and I thought that Jareth might have some manner of attachment to them after the event earlier. With the book, there is a sentimental reason he gets his britches in a bunch over it. I'll get into that later, though..._


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 2

The Circumstances of a Woman

The following week was a blur of activity. Sarah wound up having to walk into her jobs and quit outright, rather than giving her two weeks notice like she normally would. She packed her things while her brother looked on, his face filled with concerns that he wouldn't speak. She only considered taking things which had sentimental value and hoped that the creature who had extracted the promise from her father would do her the courtesy of letting her keep them always beside her.

Dinners had taken on a strained silence, and when words were spoken, it was usually Karen and Robert trying to convince Sarah that she didn't have to go. She would just smile and thank them before telling them that they could not change her mind. This house, like her childhood home, allowed her to contact her friends from the Labyrinth and on the sixth night, she called to them.

They listened to her story in quiet worry, their eyes watering at the knowledge that they might never see her again. Hoggle, despite his cowardice, suggested that she come to the Underground, that they would protect her and keep her safe. Much like with her parents suggestions, she rejected this, however.

Finally, on the morning of the seventh day, she packed the small box of things she wished to bring with her, and loaded it up in the car. She didn't ask about her family's quietness, did not ask about the quiet resignation she saw in Karen's eyes or the faint determination in her brother's. She knew well enough that this was going to be hard on all of them.

The family all climbed into the car, Toby sitting protectively at her side, Karen and Robert sitting in the front seat. They didn't speak much as her father drove the trusty station wagon through the woods, and finally turned down a drive way that was lined with peach trees.

The sight of them caused faint anxiety to swirl inside her, and she lowered her face from the view until the car came to a stop at the circular drive before the house.

Sarah climbed out, staring up at the place that would be her prison for who knew how long, while her brother went to retrieve her box of belongings. Looking up at the building's facade, she felt a startling jolt of recognition, even though she knew she had never stood at the entrance of this place before in her life. She inclined her head to the side slightly and frowned, trying to place what the manor reminded her of.

Her father led the way up the stairs and she felt little surprise when it sprung open, allowing them entrance. Karen, however, gasped in surprise, even as Robert's gentle hand at the small of her back spurred her forward.

As they entered, Sarah cast her gaze around, finding that the place did, indeed appear deserted. However, it was surprisingly well maintained. Every surface appeared dust free, the floor shone like it was recently polished. Toby was murmuring that the place looked like royalty or something should live there. She was inclined to agree. Like her father had said, the place reminded her of something out of a fairy tale.

As her family poured into a well lit, very warm room, she heard a faint giggle followed by words that made her go still and glance behind her. "The Sarah..."

Her heart jumped in her throat and she stared behind her at the empty hall, her eyes wide in shock. Her father calling her name drew her attention back to the room her family had entered, and she sighed, stepping forward through the doors.

One look at the spread on the large table set her stomach to grumbling. Her brother, likewise, stared at the table with undisguised longing. Her father was already helping Karen into one of the chairs, the woman looking as though she just might faint at the sight of the fine spread before her.

It had been a long time since they'd seen so much food for four people to consume. The table at home had been a little sparse the past several years.

Sarah and Toby quickly took two of the open places at the table and began filling their plates without hesitation. Her brother, being a growing boy still, had several plates full of food before he leaned back, setting a hand on his full stomach and looking wholly satisfied. Sarah didn't mind that they ate with such gusto. She knew that the men in the house were declaring themselves full long before they truly were to make sure that Karen, who often went without by claiming that she'd eaten earlier, would get to eat her fill.

Besides, if the person who threatened her father had truly intended to kill her, surely he wouldn't give her such a lovely meal with her family-

Her mind stopped there, and she smiled a bit sadly. Perhaps this was intended as her last meal. Perhaps that was why she was allowed such a lavish table to share with her family this evening. She could not deny, however, that it was intensely generous of the person to give her this opportunity with them. It had been so long since she had seen them happy.

The meal drug on, ending with sweet fruit cordials and several delicious pies. In order to cause no offense, she tried each one, watching her brother eat several slices on his own, while Karen availed herself to a slice of cherry pie and her father to a lemon meringue.

Finally, towards the end of the meal, Sarah became aware of a presence in the room with them. Whoever it was kept to the shadows, out of sight. She cast her gaze around, fear finally racing along the ends of her nerves, causing her to shiver faintly. As Toby finished his last bite of food, a quiet accented voice spoke from the shadows.

"Good evening, Williams family."

Karen let out a shriek, Robert jumped, and Toby whipped around, those blue eyes searching the darkness.

Sarah swallowed hard, turning towards the speaker. She thought she caught the faintest impression of pale hair, but the shadows seemed to swallow whoever hid in them completely. "Good evening to you as well," she said, proud that her voice did not quaver in the least.

There was a moment of silence, and she had the distinct feeling that the person in the shadows was drawing opinions about her. She had no idea of what those opinions might be, however. After the seemingly eternal pause, the voice spoke again. "Do you come here of your own free will, Sarah Williams?"

Toby opened his mouth to speak and Sarah gently placed a hand on her brother's arm. "Yes, I do."

Another long pause as the one who hid from view weighed her words, and likely her courage. "What do you believe is to be your fate here?"

She lowered her face, taking a deep breath. "I do not know. I take my father's place, and so I presume that I shall take whatever punishment you wished to use to extract payment for his unintentional insult-"

"Unintentional? He knowingly stole from me," the voice said quietly.

She stood in upset, defiance racing through her. "My father took a book as a present to me. So forgive me if I cannot find fault in him. He knows I love to read, and I am the one who asked for a book. He could not get what Karen and Toby wanted, but he thought he might be able to bring me something, so he tried, and you acted like he was the scum of the world!"

Robert was quietly trying to calm her, but she found herself remarkably angry. "Do you know how hard it has been for him to know that the family that he loves can't afford to have everything they want?! Do you know how much he suffers from working too much and eating too little?! You can't possibly, yet you sit in this home that is nicer, even, than anything we had when we weren't poor and you judge us!"

There was silence from the darkness, for a long time as well as from the table behind her and Sarah felt dread rising within her. She had just told off someone who was already furious with her family, and they were all there, within the clutches of whatever lived here. She swallowed hard, her hands fisting. She and her big mouth...

Finally, when she thought she might actually faint from panic, a rough chuckle left the corner. "Touch_é_, Sarah."

The way he spoke her name there, half-amusement, half-irritation, caused another surge of anxiety through her. Anxiety and remembrance. She knew that voice. She could never have misplaced that voice. Even fourteen years later, it caused equal parts excitement and fear to race through her. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke once more. "Come into the light."

Still rich with that amusement, the voice spoke again. "I think not." Then, he addressed the rest of her family. "Robert Williams, tomorrow, you and your family will take leave of this place. You are not welcome to return here again. In the parlor next to this room, you will find two trunks. Fill them with whatever you wish and take them with you. Consider it...a gift."

Sarah felt a shudder of fear whip through her at the words and she wildly searched the darkness for he whom she suspected was hiding in them. Unfortunately, despite her forward movement, she found the shadows quite empty. She couldn't help the shiver that wracked her form, and she chaffed her hands against her arms, suddenly feeling chilled despite the roaring fire.

Quietly, sadly, they adjourned the the neighboring parlor, and Sarah felt her breath suck in sharply when she entered behind the stunned family. There were video games and any system imaginable. There were designer dressed by Dior, Vuitton, and Prada. There were drawers filled with money. Once again, the story came to her mind and she glanced around. In the middle of the room were two good sized trunks.

Toby looked around, towards Karen, who was lightly running her hands over the clothes and jewelery, a wistful expression on her face. "I can't help but think we should take the money and not the rest."

Sarah looked sharply at her brother, surprised, then towards Karen, who looked sad, but was nodding slightly. "You're right. The money might pay our debts."

Robert looked towards each of his family members and then shook his head. "I wont take this at the cost of Sarah." He looked angry and stubborn, but Sarah gently rested a hand on his arm before speaking to the others.

"Pack the money first. Pick out a few things you really like and take them, too. I...It's easier knowing that you'll be alright when I'm not there." Taking the initiative, Sarah began packing money into one of the trunks, seeing that Karen and Toby, both looking sick had begun to pack the other as well. She looked towards her father. "Dad, it's okay." She gave him a smile, not letting him see the fear inside her. "If he meant to kill me, I doubt he would have fed me so well. Why waste the food?"

Robert, looking hopeless, began to pack the trunk as well, however, the more they put in the trunk, the more that seemed to fit inside. Sarah began slipping some of the designer dresses and jewelery into one, while Toby began packing video games and consoles into another. Sarah even found several very nice, designer men's suits and slipped them inside so that her father would have some nice things as well.

Finally, the trunks seemed to fill, and exhausted, they all collapsed into chairs and fell asleep within moments. When they woke, there was, again, an impressive spread of food set on a table, and the trunks were no where to be found. They ate their fill, although Robert wanted to delay it as much as possible, he knew that it was getting late, and if they weren't gone, Sarah might pay the consequences.

So, in sad company with each other, Sarah saw her family back to where the car was parked out front. She hugged each of them, pressing her face into her brother's shoulder last. His embrace was awkward, and when he pulled back, he stared at her face a moment too long, but thankfully did not mention the tears that were running down her face.

She took that moment to collect herself and turned back towards them, giving them her best smile. "Okay, go home. Hopefully I'll be able to contact you in a few days..." She watched as the piled into the car and her father gave her one last mournful look. Finally, he turned the car away and headed down the drive.

Sarah, though she knew it was fruitless, chased the car, tears in her eyes as she ran, all the way to the wrought iron gate, where she clutched the metal bars in her hands as her knees gave out and she sank to the ground, crying.

She lay there surrounded by the scent of peaches and their blossoms, in a driveway of little round, white stones, staring through the bottom of the gate, her hand reaching in the direction her family had gone. She fell asleep there, growing chilled as the winter air from outside the gates blew between them and chilled her sleeping form.

She could feel herself being lifted, cradled in gentle arms, but she was too tired to open her eyes, to see who was treating her with such care. Instinct made her nestle further into the warmth of the body holding hers, and she slipped into a deeper sleep. As she slept, she dreamed of the Labyrinth, of stones that turned themselves, hiding the marks that she made to guide her. It was a fun and funny dream, and unlike the actual event, she laughed at the brownies for their little deception.

As she wandered, she found herself in a vast garden, surrounded by every kind of flower, and it suddenly seemed to her that she wasn't in the Labyrinth anymore. Still, she moved, and found sitting alone on a bench a man with wild hair, honey blond at the root, platinum at the tips, wrapped in an owl-feather cloak, staring off into the distance.

He must have felt her gaze, because he turned and she found herself looking at the face of the Goblin King. Her lips parted and she stared at him for a long moment before a wild smile graced his thin lips. "Hello, Sarah."

His voice was tinged with exasperation, affection, and amusement. She stepped towards him slowly, her hand reaching out to touch him. She barely caught herself from doing so. "Wh-where are we," she managed to ask, pulling her hand back to her side.

There was faint disappointment in his face, but the smile never wavered. "This place is resides on the edge of several realities, yet touches none of them. I suppose you could call it 'between' worlds," he answered. He paused when she seemed to accept that answer and he slid over on the bench, offering her a hand. "Would you care to join me?"

It was with some trepidation that she set her hand upon his, and let him guide her to the seat. Much like in the crystal ballroom, she couldn't quite tear her gaze from his own. He was still enchanting and beautiful and she could feel her heart stumbling along in her chest as she tried to regain control of herself. "Why are we here?"

He glanced towards her, amused. "You know very well why you're here..." he teased lightly. His eyes seemed to drink in her appearance for a long moment and then a gloved finger traced a line on her cheek, gently, softly. "Sarah," he breathed her name and it caused every nerve in her body to stand on end. She had never heard anyone speak her name in such a way, not even the few boyfriends she'd had. The touch combined with the sound of his voice sounding so gentle stilled her.

She would have pulled back if she had seen his next move coming. He reached up, cupped her face, holding her very still as he leaned forward, stealing a kiss from her lips.

She gasped, her lips parted in surprise, and she quickly pulled away, looking at him in mute shock.

"You're very brave, Sarah. I can, and do, appreciate that. I hope that this does not change."

She looked at him in complete confusion, and his hand gently touched her face again, not holding her still this time, simply giving her a faint caress. "Why are you here?"

"That's a story for another time, precious thing." He grasped a few strands of hair between his fingers and let them slide through. "It's time to wake up, Sarah."

Sarah startled awake to the soft sound of an alarm saying her name. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn't help but feel that her lips were slightly swollen from being kissed. She tested them lightly, a frown playing on them.

She lay there for a long time before venturing out of the bed. The room she found herself in was cream and golds, with lavish bedding and intricate curtains and thick rugs. There was a gilded mirror above the vanity which, to be frank, had everything a woman could want, and several things she wasn't sure she'd know to use if she had the inclination to try.

She moved around the room, surprised at the extent of the decorating. Then, she sagged a bit, unable to help herself. After all, it was still a cage, even if it was a lovely one. Through one door, she found a sitting room, decorated with comfortable chairs and small book cases. In the large window was a bench seat, thickly padded, and she sighed, running her fingers along one book case. "At least my evenings wont be boring..." she said, giving a sad smile.

A sigh escaped her and she moved back into the bedroom, finding her box of belongings sitting on the floor near a chaise lounge. She decided she would set them up to her liking after she did a little more exploring.

Walking through another door led to the discovery of a large, equally lavishly decorated bathroom. There was a deep, sunken tub, a shower stall, and even a toilet with – thank god – running water. She hesitated to slip into the tub, however, before she tried to learn a little more about her surroundings.

She did, however, take a moment to freshen her face before she took to walking the halls until she found a door that exited the grand house, into a garden that was almost painfully familiar. It was large, and there seemed to be at least one of every kind of flower in that garden. And there, in the center of the garden, was a bench.

Her hand trembled as she rested it upon the stone of the bench.

What she had told her brother a full week ago had not been a lie. The man had terrified her, exhilarated her, made her feel things that no man before him – and no man since, for that matter – had even come close to. She had lost her heart easily to the man who had played the part of the perfect villain. In the years after, she'd come to see him as much more. He was still a villain, he always would be. He was arrogant, proud, and she didn't want to change that about him.

After all, he had taught her some of the hardest and most important lessons she'd ever been forced to learn. He had taught her responsibility for her actions, courage, how to be clever, even how to be kind. So many things, he'd done for her, and she...

She had rejected him.

Granted, at the time, she thought it might be a ruse. Just another trick to distract her. But nothing could have prepared her for the shock, the hurt on his face when she'd said the last six words to him. She'd found herself in her home a moment later, tears piercing her eyes at the memory of him moaning her name in anguish.

She had won, however, she'd lost more than she would ever admit.

She was surprised to find that tears had pierced her eyes once again at the memory of that night. Hastily, she lifted her hands, dashing the tears from her cheeks. Seeing him again, even if it was just in a dream had brought all of her memories of that night into sharp relief, and she hugged herself, allowing herself to imagine that the separation had hurt him as much as her.

She sat down on that stone bench, breathing the fragrant air, listening to the soft sound of birds singing for a long time, until finally a chilly breeze sent her back inside the warmth of her prison. She decided to wander the walls within, and upon opening the first door, found a room that enchanted her the moment she set foot within it.

Books.

From the ceiling to the floor, shelves lined with books, with ladders to reach the higher shelves. Large windows split the shelves, which flooded the room with natural light. Hungry for what lay between those pages, she ran her hands along the shelf that was at eye level, finding an odd break between them. She paused, remembering the book her father had taken and a faint frown pulled at her lips. On either side of the gap were children's tales. Stories that she could remember her father reading to her, stories that she had read to Toby.

Slowly, she pulled out one of the story books, finding it was the Arabian Nights, and her lips broke into a broad smile as she took the book over to a chair and curled up in it. She cracked the book open and began to read, remembering, even as she did, the wide-eyed look of amazement her brother had aimed at her as she'd first read the tales to him when he was six.

Time passed, and candles were lit around her, but she didn't notice until her eyes began to burn from the strain. She lifted her head from the pages and glanced at her watch, finding that it was well past seven thirty and noticed for the first time that her stomach was twisting itself into some rather intricate knots.

With a sigh, Sarah pulled out her barrette and used it to mark her page in the book, before returning it to it's rightful place upon the shelf. She gave the room one more look of intense longing and then went in search of dinner. She wasn't surprised that the day of seclusion didn't bother her. Her family had always joked that she was something of a recluse. She didn't have a lot of friends and hadn't been on a date in four years, since she had left college. There really hadn't been time.

Besides, boys and men left her feeling cold when she should have been hot and bothered, so she didn't really view pursuing the matter as being worth her while.

She found in the same room as the evening before, an equally decadent spread on the table and sat down, getting ready to eat, when she felt the sensation of eyes on her. A shiver worked it's way through her and she glanced back. "You mind not hovering while I eat? It's a little unnerving."

There was a soft chuckle from the shadows, and she found her eyes searching them thoroughly for whoever was there. "What would you propose I do?"

She gave a soft huff. "Well, I suggest you bring your backside in here and pull up a chair. It's not like I can eat all this food by myself, regardless."

She wondered for a long moment if the man really would join her. After a long moment, she heard the soft sound of foot fall and then, moments later, she saw wild blond hair above feral eyes. Her heart stilled in her chest and she lowered her gaze to the table top. "It was you..." They were silent for a long time and finally, she lifted her gaze, looking into the eyes of the Goblin King.


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 3  
A King's Lament

He was much as she remembered him. His hair was that same starlight kissed honey, hanging wildly, yet not disheveled in his face. His eyes-one sky, the other earth-looked at her with an expression incredibly similar to the one he wore in her parents' bedroom; superior, maybe even smug. He even gave her a mocking little bow.

She took the moment he did so to look at the rest of him. He was dressed unlike she'd ever seen him. It was unexpectedly casual from her past experiences with the man. He wore dove gray breeches, a cream poets' shirt with tattered sleeves and a tight black vest. On his feet were black boots. No cape, no foreboding armor. Just this creature who was not giving her much of a hint on what was going on or would happen to her.

"You don't seem surprised, Sarah Williams..."

She swallowed hard. "Should I be?" She forced herself to meet his gaze, to not stand, to definitely not cower. Why was it that even now it was so difficult to meet his gaze? Sarah's eyes wondered, she forced herself to examine his features. "You gave it away when you said my name."

He sank slowly into the chair across from hers, sprawling comfortably in it. His elbow rested easily upon the armrest, and he rested his fist lightly against his cheek. His eyes examined her for a long moment, as though gauging her words. "You remember my voice so well?"

A blush lit her face against her will and she looked away. "Not really," she lied, even though she could remember every word he'd spoken and the exact inflection used. She pushed the food on her plate around the china surface, to give herself something else to focus on, other than the familiar feeling of anxiety touched excitement that had always come from dealing with the man.

The silence stretched on until it was becoming strained, uncomfortable. Finally, she couldn't really take it anymore. "So," she said a bit desperately, "what's my punishment?" She looked up, found a completely baffled expression on the man's face and she quickly lowered her gaze once again.

"Punishment?" The voice spoke the word with mild disdain. "What, pray tell, are you speaking of, Sarah?"

She lifted her face and shrugged, pausing in the restless pushing of food. She met his gaze and saw something strange, almost disappointment within it. "I came here to take my father's place. I figured that I would be taking whatever punishment planned for him, so..." she shrugged as if it didn't matter much. The almost neutral expression he'd been maintaining wavered and she could have sworn that she'd seen something else. It might have been hurt, but it was gone so quickly that she might have imagined it, replaced again with that look of grim neutrality.

"To be honest, now that you're here, I'm not really certain what to do with you." He was looking at her with an intensity that told her that he knew what he wanted to do, he just wasn't certain he would get away with it. For some reason, the expression caused a flush to warm her cheeks and she returned her gaze to her food.

"Well, after how I left back then, I figure you'd have made a few plans..."

There was a quiet sigh from the man and she hazarded a glance at his face once more. He wasn't looking in her direction, and she noticed for the first time how tired he seemed. His shoulders seemed to sag under the weight of her words and she blinked, straightening. He wasn't meeting her gaze, instead gazing away into the shadows. There seemed to be faint bags under his eyes, speaking of his exhaustion. "Consider this: you have given up your family, your freedom, and your life outside of these walls. I believe that is punishment enough. Only a monster would ask for more."

She couldn't help but stare at him. She was shocked. She hadn't even considered that perspective. She had simply been looking for the nefarious plot behind telling her family to leave forever. It hadn't even occurred to her that that in and of itself would be her punishment. "Oh," she said weakly.

His eyes shifted towards her and he took in her expression for a long moment, then a quiet sigh left him once again and he stood. "I suppose, however, that you still consider me a villain. If you're that desperate that I seek retribution for being bested at my own game, I suppose I can think of something," he began walking away, looking rather more tired, and looking tired made him seem old. The sight of him looking so actually caused deep concern to shoot through her, however before she could say more he had left the room, and disappeared into the darkened hallway.

Shame shot through her and she looked at the food before her. What she'd already eaten sat in her like lead. She sighed softly and stood, deciding that it wasn't worth continuing to try to eat. She wandered through the empty castle on the way back to her room, finding evidence that he was alone here. There were other bedrooms, but they were bare of personal effects. She couldn't find any servants, the workings of the manor seemed go on without them. She could hear the giggles of others, things that she knew should be here, things she'd heard before. She could hear voices calling her 'the Sarah' and 'Champion'.

But there were no physical bodies that were connected to the voices. Considering that she was currently residing with the Goblin King, she could assume they were goblin voices, so why couldn't she see them? She believed in them, so...

Or did this have something to do with what he'd said in her dream, about this being an 'in between' place?

Wandering and wondering were exhausting her, so she decided to return to her room. As she entered she found a nightgown laid out, made of soft linen, on the bed waiting for her. In the bathroom, she found a delicately scented bath, still steaming.

Tears pierced her eyes and she removed her clothes and slipped into the bath. She'd hesitated that morning, had failed to see the kindness in the actions, was waiting for the trap within them. She hadn't realized that there had never been any intention to harm her.

As she lay back in the water, she allowed herself to ponder the questions that were going through her mind. At the forefront was the question that if he hadn't been waiting for some chance at personal vengeance, why was he here? And why did he want her here? And since he was here, how was his kingdom fairing in his absence, and would he even know how to check if she asked.

Not that it was any of her business, really, but she had friends in that kingdom, and so she would always wonder if they were alright; especially since she hadn't had an opportunity to speak to them in so long.

The man was something else to consider entirely. He'd been smug, but polite. Mocking, however it seemed like a mask he was putting on to fool her and perhaps even himself. As though he were still trying to convince himself that everything was alright.

The water relaxed her and she found herself growing tired. She climbed from the water, wrapped in the large, soft towel that was folded on the tile beside it, and moved into the room, pulling on her own underthings before deciding to accept the kindness as kindness and she dressed in the nightgown provided, rather than searching for her own clothing.

It was probably better for Jareth that she didn't.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Jareth sat on the balcony in his office, holding one crystal cradled between two hands and watching over his kingdom from afar, trusting his stand-in to keep it under control while he was away.

His dinner with Sarah had gone dismally poorly, and none of the food he'd consumed seemed to quell the hunger that sitting with her for only moments had caused. Speaking with Sarah was always a verbal game of chess, and he hadn't participated in that game in quite some time. It felt awkward and difficult, but he craved more already.

It didn't help that he'd eaten mortal food, which simply sat within him like a brick, sometimes for several years. The only mortal foods he could consume and retain any sense of comfort were milk and sweet cake. He didn't often require food, but after he had come into contact with Sarah once again, he'd developed a strange hunger that food couldn't fill.

He wasn't certain the reason. It wasn't entirely sexual. It was strange. He had only felt like this when Sarah was involved. Even back then, she'd stirred a strange response within him. His kind viewed it as an unnatural response. It simply wasn't normal to need a human.

Yet he needed her. He had not been able to deny the pain of her refusal all those years ago. He couldn't even lie to himself and say that watching her run his Labyrinth hadn't excited him.

Perhaps that was it. She did excite him. No one, almost nothing, had ever caused the excitement that she did when he interacted with her. Even hurting him, even cutting him with words, he truly enjoyed speaking with her. Seeing light flash in her eyes, watching her expressive face twist into different emotions.

However...

Tonight's words had cut him badly. He hadn't realized that she considered him such a monster that he would further seek to punish her after she voluntarily took her father's place. He couldn't tell her why that was so important yet. She would run away, or worse yet, refuse him outright.

So he would bide his time, he would wait. He would lead her in, and when the time was truly right, he would snap the trap shut around her.

He turned the crystal and found her laying in bed, a hint of cream nightgown peeking over the blanket. He was surprised, but pleased. He didn't imagine she'd be so keen on wearing it if she'd known that he'd made her own clothing conveniently absent. In fact, he'd bet good money that if she'd discovered her garments missing, he would have had a very angry Sarah banging on his door, rather than sleeping peacefully.

Ah, well. There was always tomorrow for the fire of anger. For now, however...

He vanished from his own rooms, and appeared beside her bed, looking down at her peaceful form. Gently, he reached down, lightly toughing her face. She mumbled something quiet in her sleep and her face leaned into his hand. Exasperation drew a smile to his lips. "How am I supposed to trap someone like you, Sarah? And yet if I do not..." he sighed. "Why you? Of all the women in all the realms, why did it have to be you?"

Content to watch her sleep, he sat down on the edge of her bed, his gloved fingers lightly trailing over her hair as he prepared for a sleepless night.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

In her dream, Sarah found herself in the gardens that surrounded the manor once again. Again, it brought to mind the Labyrinth she'd run as a teen, its twisting hedges ready to trap her at any moment. She moved through them, and found herself in the same area, with every kind of flower and the stone bench in the middle.

This time, the stone bench was empty.

She stepped towards it, and as she did, thunder shook the garden. She jumped, startled at the sound, eyes jerking towards the sky. Unlike the last time, rather than being bright and sunny, it was dark, foreboding. Rain began falling in the garden, pelting the ground. It was icy cold on her skin, and she was surprised at how much she could feel it on her.

"Why are you here?"

She turned and felt her heart tremble in excitement and perhaps just a touch of fear.

Jareth, the Goblin King, stepped from the shadows, wrapped from head to toe in black, from the flowing poets shirt, to his boots. Even the cape at his shoulders, tattered as she remembered, was dark as the shadows around him. His expression was strange. Fierce in a way that only managed to make him more beautiful.

She swallowed hard, stepping back a bit. Somehow she felt as though she were fifteen again, faced with the man she remembered. "Goblin King," she whispered.

He stalked towards her, standing close, his eyes looking at her with an intense emotion that she couldn't name. "Why are you here?"

"To right a wrong," she answered. "My father-"

"No, Sarah." He gripped her chin, angling it up so that all she could see was his face. She tried to turn her face away, but he didn't release her. His mismatched eyes bored into hers. "Don't give me that excuse. You made a choice. Why did you make it?" He must have seen her hesitation, because he began speaking again. "Isn't it because you hated your mundane life? You craved the fantastic, and any chance of that vanished when you left your schooling. So your father comes home with a wild story and you see it as a way to get out of that life-"

"NO!" She jerked away from him. It was strange. This was not the one she'd met here before. She shook in anger, tears standing in her eyes. "You may be right about my life becoming mundane, but I don't resent leaving school for them. I wanted to help them," she whispered fiercely.

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"

She whirled on him, glaring up at him. "I don't need to convince myself. I know my own motives better than you." She looked away. "They needed me-"

"And you couldn't resist the opportunity to play the hero-"

Her hand lashed out and she hit him fiercely on the face. He lifted his hand, touching the place she'd left her mark. She was briefly horrified, then decided he'd asked for it, even as she cradled her hand. The cold had long since sunk into her skin and she was shivering. She gave him a tight glare. "You may think you know me, but you don't!"

He caressed the place she'd struck him and he stepped towards her again. Something wild flashed through his eyes and he reached to grip her face again, and she flinched away. His eyes widened. When he touched her, it was with surprising care. "Can you be honest with yourself, Sarah?"

"I never deceive myself."

His dark glove slid back into her hair, then clenched into a fist, which jerked her head back as he stepped the last distance between them, putting himself flush against her. Her entire body jumped in response and she gasped, startled. "Are you certain," he asked, his lips hovering just above hers.

Her brain was trying to figure out why he was like this, this time, but it was coming up blank. Then again, thought processes were being driven out by the feeling of him against her. Her lips parted and she took a breath, which was driven out of her when his lips touched hers. She knew her knees gave out. She felt her body start to drop.

Her only logical excuse for not hitting the ground was that Jareth must have been using his magic to help support her.

It wasn't anything like she'd gotten in her last dream. It was like a physical punch from her feet, all the way up her body. It wasn't short or sweet, it was long, powerful, and passionate, and she loved it.

Her hands moved against her will, gripped his shoulders, before she pushed him away. She hung her head, her chest heaving. "Why do you keep doing that," she whispered between panted breaths.

"Probably because if I don't, I'll go insane," he answered, and sounded as winded as she did.

She lifted her gaze, staring at him in surprise. Somehow, he didn't seem quiet as dark as when he'd first stepped out of the shadows. The rain seemed to be easing as well, gentling somehow. His eyes were just as fierce, just as intense, but softer. It took some effort to keep his name from slipping from between her lips. "We need to talk."

He grew serious. "Not like this. Not in your dreams, Sarah," he said quietly. "Not about that."

She opened her mouth to object, but she could feel herself rising from the dream already. There was the soft sound of her name near her ear. She turned towards the alarm, her eyes focusing on it slowly. "Why am I here? Why did you want me here," she whispered.

With a tired, quiet sigh, Sarah left her bed and moved towards the large chest that she'd intended to put her clothing in and opened the first box.

And stared.

All memories of her dream, of the Jareth who was dark and intense or bright and teasing left her mind. Red hot rage filled her before she could think that it might be a bad idea. "_YOU OVER GROWN GOBLIN JERK! WHERE THE HELL ARE MY CLOTHES?!_"

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

_AN: Many thanks to makae, for reading this and playing mental table tennis with it. To be honest, when I wrote this chapter I hated it, and so I've spent roughly the past week sending it back and forth with my casual beta. Bless her for her brilliant ideas when I'm tearing my hair out due to exhaustion and stress. To all of those who have read and reviewed former chapters, thanks millions. I greatly appreciate both positive and negative feedback, so please tell me what you think :heart:_


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 4

War Games...

A scream of feminine rage pulled Jareth from his slumber abruptly. He jerked upright, his eyes darting left and right, searching for the source of the fury coming towards him. He could hear doors opening and slamming shut with enough force that it was actually managing to strengthen his headache.

He rose from his bed, grabbing a silk dressing robe and wrapping it around himself in the nick of time. He'd only just tied the sash when his own door was slammed open. He turned, glancing towards the woman standing in the doorway, hair bedroom disheveled, fetchingly dressed in nothing save that same cream nightgown. He didn't bother trying to stop his gaze from sweeping down the length of her figure. "Well, well. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the morning?"

She stepped into the room, slamming the door behind her. It closed so hard, he was one hundred percent certain she cracked the door frame. "Where are my clothes?" Her tone was icy and polite at the same time. He was impressed at the restraint she was displaying. He'd fully expected her to bodily attack him. Admittedly, he was rather hoping she would.

He sighed, inclining his head. "You are in my home. I provided you with...an alternative to what you brought with you."

She moved towards him, her hands clenched into fists. He could actually see the vein in her temple throb in anger. "Look, I realize you were probably...trying to be nice..." Every word she spoke sounded as though they were an individual sentence, clipped and precise. "However, I would greatly appreciate it if you would return my own garments."

"No."

Her jaw dropped. "You unbearable prick!"

He looked her directly in those furious green eyes. She looked as though she could quite happily choke him right here, right now. "What is your problem with the clothing I gave you? Are they not to your liking? Uncomfortable?"

"I didn't bother looking. I like to wear my own clothes, not the out-dated dresses you likely stuffed my wardrobe with! Oh, and by the way, I like my jeans a hell of a lot more than poofy silver monstrosities!"

He arched a brow. He knew exactly the dress she was referencing and he'd be lying if he claimed that it didn't bother him that she didn't still think of it fondly. "Your fifteen year old self did not consider it much of a monstrosity."

"I was fifteen and it was the eighties!" She countered, her hands in tight fists at her sides. "Now if you don't mind, where are my CLOTHES?!"

Somehow, while maintaining that tight-lipped, clenched-jaw speech, she still managed to scream the last word. It lanced his brain and sent it straight back into the realm of intense pain. He must have flinched, because her eyes widened. He turned away from her, lifting a hand to his head, massaging his temple. "If I could return your clothing, I would, if for no other reason so you would _stop shrieking_."

She was curiously silent behind him. He gave a half-turn, finding a confused expression on her face.

He sighed. "I knew it would be unlikely for you to accept anything I might offer you to replace what you already have. Due to our dealings in the past and your obviously rebellious nature, you would not accept a gift offered by me. My mind slipped and I...wished your clothing away. Not to the Goblins. I just wished you'd forgotten them at your home."

Her jaw dropped. "Then wish them back!"

Mild amusement flickered through him. "That seems like a simple enough solution, however they no longer reside here, and as such...I have no power over them." Speaking the words caused him equal parts sorrow and amusement.

She stared at him for a full minute. "You're serious."

"Absolutely and unequivocally."

She gave a huff of frustration. "So now what do I do?"

He turned away from her. He didn't wish to argue further. He simply wished to take a headache powder and a hot soak before beginning the day's business. Between now and then, he also had to decipher how he was able to fall asleep at all. "There are clothes in your wardrobe, none of them are overstated, mostly simple dresses you can put on yourself. There is one riding habit, as well one formal gown, should the desire to...play dress up strikes you."

She was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was polite, but not exactly what he would call friendly. "Very well. Do you have any recommendation how I should spend my day?"

A glance out the window found dark clouds overhead. "It looks like it shall rain. It might be best if you entertain yourself indoors today. I'm sure you'll find something to amuse yourself. Good day, Sarah."

She didn't return the salutation, punctuated her flight by softly closing the door. He was grateful that she chose not to slam it.

With a heavy sigh, he tore open a pouch of the powders and poured them into a glass of water. They dissolved instantly and he threw it back, hoping that it would deaden the pain. The food from the previous evening still sat heavy in his stomach. He stripped from the robe and looked at himself in the reflective glass, his eyes running over the slashes that marred his shoulders and back.

He hadn't set the trap for her the evening before. He should not have been able to fall asleep after that, yet somehow, he had managed. Somehow, he knew that he'd had a dream, but he couldn't fathom for the life of him what that had been. Perhaps it was caused by magic. Or Sarah.

Both always managed to produce splitting headaches.

By the time he reached the bathroom, warm water was already running. He never questioned why things here worked the way they did. He never saw any attendants, servants, or groundskeepers. Yet somehow this place always maintained itself.

He supposed that was part of his punishment. Complete isolation until Sarah's father had traipsed into the property, something that should have been impossible. Yet somehow, it wasn't because sure as the sun rose and set, the man had wound up in the castle. It was either fluke or fate, but he wasn't going to complain. It put Sarah within his grasp before his final trial.

He decided to stop that train of thought. It would just cause more than his head to ache.

He slipped into the warm water, his muscles relaxing as he immersed himself. His breath sighed out of him in ecstasy, and he shifted around a bit to get comfortable and his eyes fell closed.

Moments later, they opened and he stared at the ceiling.

What was he supposed to do about this situation, he wondered. Things truly seemed hopeless. He wasn't permitted to give her an reason to be at ease with him. He was not permitted physical contact with her until he had her trapped. It was going to drive him mad.

Still, somehow he had to make her fall in love with him, consent to marry him as well as return to the Underground as the Queen, all without letting her know his situation. He sighed heavily, sinking nose deep into the water and blowing bubbles in his frustration.

This was going to be tricky, he decided. After all, with Sarah, things never went quite according to plan.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah didn't respond to the visual stimulus of a half-naked goblin King until she was in her bedroom once again. Granted, he'd been covered in the literal sense, however, the robe had hung open clear to his waist, where it was tied shut with the sash. She'd gotten the full picture of his chest, including some strange pale slashes that reminded her of scar tissue that had just been visible around the neck of it.

Oddly, the marred areas did not detract from his appearance, it added to the mystery of him. His chest and stomach were toned and lean, with faint blond hair trailing down his chest and disappearing beneath the sash.

Her face was warm and she could feel her heart pounding a bit as she leaned back against the door. One of her hands lifted and she gripped the nightgown above her heart, feeling a bit lightheaded. She let her head fall back against the wood and her breath left her in a rush. "Too much visual stimulation in too short a time..." she decided, walking into the bathroom and splashing her cheeks with water to cool them, then moved hesitantly towards the wardrobe.

She pulled the first dress down, finding it to be surprisingly simple, not fluffy at all, just a simple day-wear dress in lavender with a little white lace down the front of the bodice. She sighed, slipping it over her head and then looked at herself in the mirror. Digging through her drawers surprised her. She found that his wish had somehow neglected her undergarments, which were neatly placed in the drawers. In the bottom drawer she found the jeans and poets shirt she'd worn the day prior.

At least she still had some...

She hedged a glance towards her door, wondering what the Goblin King was doing then and then glanced towards the mirror, only to back away with a surprised gasp. She could see him upon the glass, as if she were peering through a window into his bathroom, watching him reclined in a deep tub with clawed feet, his face more than half-submerged, blowing bubbles in his bathwater.

The picture he made drew a reluctant smile to her lips, until he began lifting himself from the water and she felt the color return to her face and she spun around, giving her back to Jareth's image. She was one hundred percent certain she wasn't ready to view him in all of his masculine glory.

Once prepared, she left her room, wondering what she should do for the day. The overcast sky made the castle somehow darker. She decided against reading as a way to pass the time, and instead took to wandering the halls once again. It was strange and lonely here, and her only possible company was the Goblin King.

She wondered if that was deliberate.

She enjoyed solitude, true, but this was going a little overboard. After all, with only one person to speak to would either lead to them trying to kill each other or...she swallowed hard. No, the alternative would simply not happen. It wasn't possible that he could feel anything for her. She would _know_ if he did. Her dreams to the contrary were simply her own personal desperation to be loved by the man she'd lost her heart to at the tender age of fifteen.

She winced a bit, remembering the rather harsh words she'd used regarding the sugar spun dress she'd worn in her peach dream. True, she'd been a teenager and it had been the eighties, but she still sometimes slipped into childish fantasies about the dance she'd shared with the man. The dress had a special place in her heart. Granted, if presented with such a thing at her current age, she'd wince and accuse him of trying to make her the child she'd been rather than accepting that she was now a woman mature enough to have children of her own.

Not that she did.

A sigh escaped her and she wandered the halls, finding herself in front of two great doors. Curiosity led her to push one door inward and enter the room. As she entered, torches lit themselves, casting a yellow glow on the highly polished floor.

In one corner, there was a large piano, a harp, as well as several other instruments. She moved within, stepping up to the piano, her fingers lightly tracing over the ivory and ebony keys. She'd always been fascinated with the instrument. It was classified as a string instrument, however sound was caused by percussion, hammers hitting strings. It was amazingly diverse, and could stir so many emotions in her that it was nearly frightening.

She'd begged her mother for lessons as a girl, only to be told a month in that she was completely hopeless and that she did not have the dexterity required for an instrument. It had wounded her so fiercely that she'd not had the heart to try again.

She pressed one key and let the sound echo through her, through the room, closing her eyes as the sound faded.

"Do you play?"

She yelped, coming clear out of her skin. She saw Jareth in the shadows. More accurately, she saw the blond halo of his hair in the shadows. She withdrew her hand from it, shaking her head. "No."

He inclined his head, moving towards her a bit. "To have so much affection for an instrument but not play it seems odd," he trailed his fingers across the black lacquered surface.

She allowed her voice to be a bit tart. "I'm afraid I'm not dextrous enough."

He arched a brow. "That sounds like the words of an impatient instructor, not a defiant young lady who defeated the Goblin King." He stood before her now. He was dressed in a black, from silk shirt to his highly shined boots. Somehow he seemed to bleed back into the shadows when dressed like that. He vaguely reminded her of his dream self from the evening before, all intimidation and self-confidence. Funny, how when he was like that, she wanted to fight against him.

"I suppose you know how to play," she snapped in defense.

He gave a short nod. "As well as several other instruments. I'm afraid that when one is alone and has little to occupy their time, they find things."

She lowered her head. "So...we are alone here." He grunted in agreement, and it drew her gaze to his face once more. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring across the room, at nothing. "Um, why _are_ you here?"

His gaze slanted towards her and it was almost cold enough to burn. "Because I am being punished, Sarah Williams. I am exiled from my lands, still king, however, by my subjects choosing. This is where they send people who have failed. It is a place between realms, barely brushing, supposedly accessible. Yet somehow your father managed to wander right into it."

She watched the king shake his head. "How is that possible?"

"It shouldn't be possible," he replied, looking back towards her. "However impossible it seemed, however, it happened. And your family was able to reenter it, so perhaps it is not as apart from your realm as the faery realms think."

She wanted to ask, but it seemed to be a horribly rude thing to say. So she didn't. Instead, she touched the piano. "You're right, the comment about my dexterity was told to me by a piano instructor my mother hired. I was six and wanted to play so much. However, I did not seem to have the...aptitude for it."

He moved towards her, behind her and she felt her heart jump into her throat and her body responded to his closeness. His hands rested beside hers on the keys. They weren't touching, but they were _so_ close. Her heart stuttered to a halt completely when she felt his breath on her cheek. "Learning a new skill requires much practice and dedication. Perhaps at six you were not dextrous enough, but your hands would have developed the skill to play over time. The person I remember facing my Labyrinth was stubborn and defiant. Why let the words of one impatient fool color the rest of your life?"

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to find her voice. "Are you offering to teach me, your highness?"

In her peripheral vision she could see his lips curl into a faint smirk. "I suppose I am, Miss Williams. Are you up to the challenge?"

"I'll take any challenge you put in front of me," she said, turning and looking back at his face, refusing to let him notice the effect he was having upon her. There was a fire in his eyes, and she wondered if this wasn't a bad idea. Still, she wanted to learn, and he had taught her the hardest lessons she'd learned in life.

Mismatched eyes of earth and sky looked into her own moss green pair and then, finally, he looked away and withdrew. "Then we'll have your first lesson tomorrow. I was actually searching for you to inform you that dinner has been served." He was quiet for a long moment.

She stepped from between him and the piano, feeling her cheeks heating. "Oh," she said, trying not to feel disappointed that he hadn't sought her company for any other reason than that. It was odd. She should still be blazing furious with the man for wishing her clothing away, but somehow she knew that if she was going to survive here, she was going to have to find a way to make peace with him. She saw something strange in the expression on his face, frustration or perhaps something else and an idea came to mind. "W...would you mind keeping me company during dinner? I'm a little worried that if I don't speak with someone periodically I'll forget how to."

He gave a wry chuckle. "That does tend to happen," he conceded and she thought that he was talking about himself. "Very well, Sarah, I shall sit with you while you dine. Let us go."

She swallowed hard, letting him lead her from the music room.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Dinner went shockingly well. In fact, Sarah was shocked by how well it had gone. Perhaps her main problem was that she still looked at him as an antagonist, as a villain and so she found herself shocked at how...human he sometimes seemed.

He was well learned, clever, and had an odd charm that she found herself growing more attracted to the longer she remained in his presence. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Something about the whole affair bothered her, however. Before he'd left her at the end of the evening, he'd hesitated, had called her name in a way that caused every nerve in her body to come alive. Yet, when she'd turned to him, for she'd been unable to do anything but, he stopped himself, wished her good night, and left.

She sat in her bedroom now, staring out the darkened window at the rain pattering away at the glass. She'd long since bathed and changed, but she was too unsettled to sleep. She hadn't remembered to ask him what she wanted to. Namely, why he needed her here. If he desired company, anyone could have made a suitable partner.

No, for some reason, she knew it had to be her, or no one. He needed her for something, but he was not being forthcoming with why exactly he needed her. So she sat, awake, trying to decide what she was going to do to pry the information out of the king.

Normal trickery wouldn't work. She would have to test the waters, find out what his weaknesses were, try to find a crack in his armor that would let her learn what it was he needed from her.

She closed her eyes, sighing softly. "What do you want from me...?" The question went unanswered, for now at least. Eventually, she dozed off in the chair, never noticing when she was carefully lifted from it and rested upon the bed before the covers were pulled over her, tucked around her.

Jareth stared down at the girl, who was obviously too intelligent for her own good. Foolish, really, to call her a girl, however. In some ways, she was the same girl he remembered. In others, he found he was mistaking. Her figure was lush, her face had grown away from the coltish adolescent appearance it had when she was a teen. Now she was a woman, and if he played his cards right, she would be his.

Heart and mind, body and soul. Or he would be dead, and then it could not matter to him, regardless. One way or another, this intense, mindless suffering she brought upon him would come to an end.

He smiled grimly, wondering if this time the woman would take her dreams or her family, for she could not really have both. He reached down, setting his hand a quarter inch from her cheek, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her, but not enough to feel her soft looking skin. "Sarah," he whispered softly. "Sarah..."

Her face scrunched up adorably, and he discovered he was starting to feel tired. He transported himself to his own room, finding that he collapsed upon the bed almost immediately upon reaching it. Consciousness left him and he was pulled into the realm of dreams.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 5

Running Dreams

Twilight in what she'd come to term as Jareth's Garden. The sky was painted purples and oranges and all the colors of a sunrise and it rather reminded her of the day she ran the Labyrinth. She seemed alone in the garden this time, however, she'd been alone upon entering it last time, as well.

She moved towards the bench, sitting upon it – it was cool and damp to the touch. Was she going to be having these dreams every day? Every time she slept? Usually, dreams were like fog which faded as the sun hit it. It was rare that she remembered details of an evening adventure, and she was rather certain that it was odd that she should be aware that she was dreaming.

Soft hands lightly touched her shoulders and she didn't have to turn around to know that it was him. Her breath caught and she glanced towards him. Not all white, not all black. Somewhere in between this time. No romantic or foreboding expression. Just...Jareth.

"Hello, Precious," he greeted softly. "Am I disturbing you?"

She couldn't find her voice so she gave a tentative shake of her head and slid to one side of the bench, offering him space beside her. He moved around, sat down. His elbows rested on his thighs and his hands wrapped around each other. Gloves of brown leather adorned those hands, which she only now realized had never touched her outside of a dream. Bsrown leather long coat that she remembered from when she'd faced him in the tunnels. He'd been all conceit and self-confidence there. And anger when she'd insulted him and his Labyrinth.

They sat in silence for a long time before Sarah sighed, getting ready to stand. Before she could, and arm settled around her shoulders and his head came to rest against hers. Her body went still and she swallowed hard, hazarding a glance his way. His expression was difficult to read. "What is this place," she finally asked, uncertain what else to say.

She saw his lips curl into a smile. "This is a secret place," he answered. It was cryptic, the way he said that, as though the irony was amusing. "It's been locked away for a long time, awaiting the key needed to free it." He sat, looking towards her. "How is it that you managed to wander into its walls so easily?"

She stared up at him, surprised. "You're never the same when I come here," she said quietly. "And there was no gate that I entered to come into this garden. I just followed the path, and it led me here."

He gave her a sad smile, his head inclining to the side. He lifted a hand, cupped her face gently. "I suppose you are not a captive of this place, then...no." His thumb stroked her cheek and she could smell the leather of his gloves, which hinted of magic and let her know that this was him; perhaps the very core of him. "You're not a prisoner here, like me. Sarah Williams is the master of this place. Perhaps you hold the key."

This dream was starting to annoy her. Jareth was being cryptic, not explaining anything at all or telling her what she needed to know. She reached up, pulling his hand from her face. "The key to what?" She asked, wondering if he would allow her to pull the answers from him directly or if he'd play games with her some more.

His other hand lifted, and she found hers trapped in his as he drew them closer to him. She blinked in surprise when he flattened them against his chest, over his heart. "My secret place," he said softly, his mismatched eyes trapping hers. "We're trapped here, Sarah. We cannot be free during the waking hours, so the core of us walks in these dreams. But you can release us. Only you can," he gave her an ironic half-smile. He released her hands, his own catching a few strands of her hair, caressing them as he leaned towards her.

He was going to kiss her again. Somehow she knew this, but even knowing, she couldn't make herself back away from him. She knew he was right. "Jareth," she whispered, moments before his lips touched hers. "I don't know what I need to do."

Those eyes continued to hold hers. "Just live, Sarah. I know that I am not an easy person to live with. However, I believe in you. I'm not a patient man by nature; however for you...I will wait." That ironic smile appeared once again. "I've been waiting for nearly an eternity, regardless."

She didn't get a chance to ask him what that meant. His lips were on hers, not gentle and sweet or violent and punishing. Just passion and magic and...

The core of his self, she thought. And then she realized that in these dreams they were able to walk without the inhibitions that plagued their daily lives. That knowledge knocked a barrier inside of her down completely.

Her hands left his chest, tangled into his hair as she pressed into the kiss, responding with an enthusiasm that must have surprised him, because he paused for a moment and then a moan left him. His hands rested on her lower back then slid up to her shoulders, crushing her closer. "Sarah," he moaned against her lips. "Sarah..."

She ran her hands down his head, slipped them into the back of his shirt, and paused, surprised. She could feel strange grooves on his back. They felt damp under her fingers and they were interspersed with areas of smooth skin. Disturbed, she pulled back, looking at him in confusion.

He looked at her openly, and withdrew his hands. "You feel them? The wounds left from my failure?"

"What failure?"

He unbuttoned a small button on both gloves, then on his sleeves and pulled them apart, revealing his wrists, which looked raw, bleeding. Horror filled her and she lifted her gaze to his own, seeing anguish upon them. "You," he whispered softly. "You are my failure. You won, where you were not supposed to win, Precious. And because you won I suffered the consequences of my failure. I will continue to suffer unless you can free me."

Tears filled her eyes and she lifted her gaze. "This is my fault?"

He gave a raw chuckle. "No," he said quietly. He cradled her face in his hands and brought his lips to her eyes. "This is no fault of yours, my precious thing." His lips swept over her cheeks and her breath sighed out of her. "No, the fault lies with myself and my kind. We are not forgiving of failure, and when one of our sovereigns fails, we...tend to react poorly." He gave her a sad smile. "You'll wake soon. Let's not dwell on my wounds." His smile took a wicked edge. "I've better ways to occupy your lovely mouth."

His mouth was upon hers again and she reacted instantly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, trying to get closer to him, to feel him against her. His hands whispered down her sides, pulled her firmly against him, while his mouth plundered hers thoroughly. It was wonderful, it was perfect and it was _him_. It was so painfully him that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. "Jareth..."

She opened her eyes to find herself being blinded by sunlight seeping through the cracks in her curtains. Soundly she wore. "Damn and blast..."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

She was in a pissy mood, he decided, after watching her from the shadows as she would pick up a book in the library and skim the first few pages only to slam it back onto the shelf. Somehow, he knew that part of the anger was aimed at him, but he couldn't, for the life of him, remember what he might have done or said the day previous to warrant such irritation.

So he remained back, hidden in the shadows, not wanting her to notice him watching her.

However, she must have felt the weight of his gaze. She turned, looked him directly in the eyes, and her irritation was mixed with something else that if he had to hazard a guess he'd call sexual frustration. Then again, she was a healthy, adult woman, who likely knew the pleasures of the flesh.

Just not the pleasures of his.

The idea that she might be interested giving him a trial run was not unpleasing, but he hid his amusement and interest in doing the same with her. Instead, he moved towards her, gently taking the book she was putting an unnatural amount of pressure upon from her death grip and set it gently upon the shelves. "Sarah," he said, keeping his voice calm and patient. "Would you mind if I asked why you are abusing my library?"

She scowled at him and he thought for a moment that his skin might blister from the scathing look it was. She opened her mouth, for all practical purposes she spoke, however not a single sound passed through her lips. She reached the end of the sentence and paused, as if trying to figure out what about that exchange hadn't seemed quite 'right'.

He was quite confused as well, considering the way she was trying to speak those words implied that they should have met with his ears at considerable volume. He arched a brow. "Hah."

"Huh."

The words, sounding slightly differed, were spoken in unison regardless as they bother drew their own conclusions about what had just happened. He looked towards her and smiled faintly. "This place must not wish for you to speak about the subject that you were about to discuss with me." The confusion on her face gave way to frustration.

"Well, just peachy. How am I supposed to fix the problem if I'm not allowed to 'discuss' it?" She began pacing. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do here! I know I'm supposed to be doing something, but you won't or can't give me a straight answer, and the dreams are going to drive me nuts."

He arched an eyebrow. "Dreams?" More importantly, what dreams would be leading her to a point of jumping on him. That thought wasn't displeasing, and he discretely shifted so she wouldn't know just how pleased the thought of her doing so was to him.

She paused, turned towards him. She must have seen the completely-confused-yet-interested expression on his face, because she stopped moving completely. She glanced away from his gaze, and must have come to a conclusion that she didn't intend to share with him, because when she looked back into his eyes, her own were guarded.

Her control had grown so much. Scarcely a trace of the spoiled brat he remembered. He gave himself a moment to admire the woman she'd become, before focusing on her when she spoke again.

"You came to find me for something?" Her tone invited him to tell her why, but it didn't demand.

"I did," he agreed. "I thought you might like your first lesson on the piano."

Her eyes grew bright, and he saw her restrain herself a bit. "Even if you wind up tearing your hair out by the end of it?" The faintest smirk on her lips.

He gave her a wry smile. "Sarah, I'm rather fond of my hair. I promise you, no matter how frustrated I become, I'll not tear out my hair." He slanted a glance towards her. "Banging my head against a wall, however, is another story entirely."

She laughed, honestly laughed, and she gave a nod. "It's a deal. And when we're too annoyed to continue, we'll beat our heads against the wall for a few moments and go to dinner?"

"Absolutely, my dear." He pushed the door to the Library open and held it for her. They walked beside each other, down the hall, and he noticed Sarah didn't seem to mind standing this close to him. He, however, was going into a mild sensory overload. He could smell her hair, and see the amused light on her face. He could not help but wonder what her skin would feel like, her lips would taste like. Somehow, he knew it would be his undoing, knowing those things.

He'd never be able to trap her if he, himself, became trapped.

The worry was he wasn't quite certain if he would care...

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah slanted a glance towards Jareth as they walked. He hadn't mentioned having dreams where he snogged her senseless, however, even men like him could turn into complete prudes when their secret evening tirades came under examination. However, he'd seemed completely lost at her mention of them, and she let herself briefly wonder if faery creatures could dream at all.

Considering the short time she'd been there, it didn't seem appropriate to ask him.

Another glance his way found him glancing at her as well and she averted her gaze quickly, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. Wondering what his reaction had been had her glancing his way once more and she found he was still looking at her, being more open and obvious about it this time. She forced herself to meet that gaze.

It was unfortunately, very distracting. His eyes were beautiful, and it had been a long time since she had looked into them unhindered. Unlike in the tunnels, when she'd felt the urge to turn away, to avert her gaze, here she had no such troubles. "Is there something on my face?" She'd tried for tart, but her voice ended up a little breathless.

He looked almost amused, almost, but there was something that she couldn't quite identify that flickered over his features. Then, he gave a half-smile and shrugged, turning his gaze to where they were going once again.

He had a handsome profile.

She realized what she'd just thought and quickly returned her gaze to the area before them as well pretending, with great effort, that she didn't remember the feel of his lips upon hers in her dream. It had been a surprisingly profound experience each time. Even now, she remembered the difference in each of them. Hero, Villain, Jareth…

The idea almost had her laughing, and Jareth must have noticed how her steps hesitated just a bit, because he looked at her once again.

She simply looked up at him, feeling as if she were seeing him for the first time all over again. "You're strange," she said finally, inclining her head to the side.

Something flickered through his eyes again, and turned into baffled amusement. "I assure you, you are the strange one."

She gave him a wild smile and nodded, "That, too." She had to be strange, or else she wouldn't have fallen in love with him. He had a bemused expression on his face as he opened the door to the music room, and held it for her, gesturing for her to enter first.

She moved in, and felt him behind her, knowing that he was following her to the piano. Once at the bench, she looked at the grand piano in apprehension, and then glanced at him in time to watch him sit down upon the bench. His eyes met hers and he patted the space beside him invitation. It reminded her of the dream, and she found she couldn't disobey him. She joined him, feeling a little sense of déjà vu.

He lifted the cover that hid ivory and ebony keys, and his fingers...danced over them briefly. It was a simple scale, but watching him play, he might as well have been playing a sonata or something. His eyes moved towards her and he nodded, indicating that she should put her fingers on the keys. "This is an exercise, something simple. Over time, I'll have more difficult ones, which reflect the skill you have at that time. A 'C' scale starts here," he pressed upon the first keys, using his thumb for the higher scale and pinky for the lower one. "And ends here," again, they danced up the keys, the fluid movement drawing one hundred percent of her attention.

Her piano teacher hadn't made it look that simple, and that particular person had made her feel inadequate enough. She lifted her gaze, looking at him, uncertain suddenly.

He just looked at her, his gaze patient, waiting for her to make an attempt. Her hands trembled faintly as she looked at his own, placing hers at the similar starting point, higher up the piano. Just before she started, he spoke. "Move your thumb down one key. There's no need to be so tense, Sarah. Just relax."

She swallowed hard, and forced her fingers to start playing. However, just as her fingers hit the fifth note, she realized she had no idea how to continue and she stopped, froze, looking towards the man beside her.

He set his fingers in the same position as hers, and showed her how to continue the scale, moving slowly and precisely, doing it again and again, even as she began to play with him.

She tried several times, stumbling through the scale, nervously glancing towards him, until she realized that he hadn't been playing for the past several, and it had been her fingers alone on the keys. She froze, the last note echoing through the room.

He smirked at her, inclining his head. "Well done."

She looked from the keys to the man beside her and felt a giddy sensation whip through her. Before she could stop herself, and before he could move an inch, she threw her arms around him and hugged the air from his lungs. She felt him freeze, even as she pressed her face into his shoulder and gave a weak laugh. "Thank you..." she whispered.

Slowly, her brain caught up with her action and she froze as well, unable to move, still hugging the Goblin King as they sat together on a piano bench. He wasn't returning the movement, he seemed quite stuck. After a long moment - just as she was deciding it was a good idea to unwind her arms from around him, but hadn't quite figured out how – She felt Jareth's hands lightly set on her lower back, returning the embrace.

Another moment passed before he spoke softly. "You're welcome," he said quietly against her hair and then his grip shifted to her arms and he set her away, stood and headed towards the door.

Confused, maybe even hurt, she stood, turning towards him. "Will I see you at dinner?"

He hesitated at the door, turning only slightly. It gave her a clear view of his profile, but not his eyes. "If that is your wish," was his reply.

The words were almost cold. Her flickering warmth from the piano lesson died abruptly and she stood, walking towards the door.

"Sarah?"

She didn't answer his baffled call as she passed him. She only stopped for a moment and turned, giving him a slashing glare. "Don't be such a jackass. If you don't want to go to dinner, just say so." And with that, she stormed back to her room, slammed the door, and locked it.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Jareth watched, bemused, as she stormed away. He'd upset her. He hadn't intended to. He just found himself stunned at the contact. His body practically hummed from it. His brain still wasn't fully functioning from the enthusiastic embrace.

Slowly, he wandered towards the kitchens and found some sweetbread and sat down, picking at it and thinking about what had just happened.

Physical contact. He wasn't supposed to touch her, at all, not until the trap was sprung. Most of that was to make sure that he wasn't the one trapped by her, however, she seemed to have few qualms with touching _him_. It should have troubled him, should have caused him worry and frustration.

Instead, he found himself excited and exhilarated at the possibilities. Permission to touch her in perhaps simple casual contact, like offering her a hand or arm in which to escort her places, brushing hair from her face or wiping smudges from her cheek. If she initiated such contact, the rule must certainly have a loophole. After all, he hadn't felt the foreboding sensation of the fae council about to come down upon him like a ton of goblins.

Oh, at the moment he'd seen her lunging towards him he'd felt equal parts fear and anticipation. Voluntary contact from her, something he'd desired for so long. Fear, because he wasn't certain if they were being monitored closely, and if those who would be at his trial saw him in physical contact with her prior to her fate, he would be executed.

He rubbed his hands over his forehead, and then stood, wandering the halls until he reached Sarah's chambers. He knocked gently upon the wood, waiting for a reply. There was nothing. He tried the doorknob and found it locked. Not that it would stop him from speaking to her.

He used his transport magic and appeared in her room in time to see her sprinting across the lawn wearing the poets shirt and jeans she'd worn on her first day. Dread filled him and he gave chase, not thinking about how stupid it was. He could have just appeared behind her and caught her. He tried not to think about how she'd gotten down from the second floor without harming herself.

The entrance was sealed, had been sealed since her family had left, so he didn't have to worry about her escaping that way. Or he wouldn't if this was anyone except Sarah. He touched down on the gravel drive and he quickly followed the very obvious path she'd left behind herself.

It was painfully obvious to him that he was going to have to teach her a few things besides the piano. Useful things. Things he hoped she would thank him for later.

He was in line of sight when she reached the gate. "SARAH," he shouted to her. He saw her turn and her expression was wild and wounded and angry. She turned, running parallel to the gate. He sighed in exasperation.

Why the hell did he to _have_ to fall in love with _her_?

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

He was chasing her. It infuriated her, that after she hugged him and he had the nerve to be a jerk, that he had the guts to chase her.

He should have just let her go. At least until she could nurse the hurt. But no, he had to chase her!

Sarah rushed through the garden maze, hearing him scarcely a turn behind her. She reached the garden, with it's flowers of every kind, and her foot caught a loose stone on the path. She yelped, going down onto her knees, feeling the pain of them tearing open. Her hands scuffed as well, and she swore soundly. Just as she tried to struggle to her feet, she heard the sound of his boots on flagstone.

She turned, finding him less than a step behind her. She scrambled backwards, stopping only when she felt the bench at her back. He went to a knee at her side and she leaned away from him, wincing as she put more pressure on one of her hands.

She nearly came out of her skin when his leather clad hand wrapped around the wrist closest to him and lifted the hand away from the ground. He turned it so they could both see it and her stomach tied itself in a few knots when she saw hamburger where there had been smooth flesh that morning. She turned away from it, trying to swallow down the nausea.

"Sarah," he said quietly. "Come with me."

He didn't say another word, didn't try to move her. They were simply outside one moment, and inside a large, room made of marble. There was a dividing screen between where they sat and the rest of the room, and a large sink beside the chair she was suddenly sitting in.

It was strange, almost frightening, being in one place and then instantly being in another. Jareth released her wrist and it throbbed as she set it in her lap. It took her a long moment to realize that something else had changed. "My clothes?!"

He glanced towards her at her yelped words. She sat in a simple linen shift that fell to the tops of her knees. He sighed softly, and grabbed a few clean, white towels as well as a bowl. "Are resting in the laundry. I cannot treat the wounds on your knees without seeing them."

She blushed, looking away from him, hearing the reproach in his voice.

When she didn't answer, he continued. "Wounds that would not be there had you not run from me."

"I was upset," she answered, glancing away. "I wanted some time to myself, a place where I could..."

He glanced over at her, soaking one of the wash cloths in the water and then touching the surface with the tip of a gloved finger. The scent of medicine filled the air, herbal and rich, with the faintest hint of ozone. "Then you shall have a place, Sarah." His words were final, and he withdrew the cloth from the water and set it softly on her wounded hands.

Her hands tingled and when he withdrew the cloth, she stared in shock. The skin was red and would likely be tender for quite some time, but the wounds were gone. He set the cloth aside and took her hands in his own, turning them, inspecting them closely. "They'll be stiff and sore for a few days, but they'll recover. Your piano lessons will continue in two days." Then he knelt down and inspected her knees, again soaking the wash cloth in the water, squeezing it partially dry.

She blushed, averting her gaze, all too aware that she was in front of the Goblin King in what was basically underwear. He, however, seemed not to notice. He ran his finger over an old, white scar on her knee and glanced up at her in curiosity. "You are not careful." His words were blunt. She shook her head in answer.

"I'm not," she agreed, wondering if she shouldn't use more caution when interacting with this man. Especially during those times. He flashed her an exasperated smile and lightly touched the cloth to the first knee. Again, that strange tingling sensation, then he switched to the other knee.

"Perhaps you should be." He lifted that gaze to her face and she saw mixed emotions in his gaze.

She inclined her head, wondering at the faint warning in his voice. "Am I in danger here?"

Something in his eyes, something in his smile, spoke of sadness. "No, Sarah. Not here. This place is outside the machinations of man."

"Because it's between realms?"

His eyes went carefully blank and she wanted to swear at herself for saying that. "How do you know this?"

She briefly pondered how best to answer that. "It's...kinda hard to explain. It feels like the Labyrinth, but it's not. It feels like my realm, but it's not there either. When I got here, it was the middle of winter out there, and in here...it's almost always spring. It makes sense that it's not really touching my world."

His eyes were uncertain, but he didn't question her. "Are you in need of company this evening?"

"I wouldn't mind it," she answered, not demanding it, but letting him know he was welcome.

He gave a faint smirk and nodded. "Very well, then, Sarah. You're...all better," there was faint mocking in his tone, but she wasn't certain if he mocked her or himself. "So you can be off to your room again. You've no need to run again. If there is a place you wish to keep to yourself, then it is yours."

He stood, placing a hand on her shoulders and she smelled the tang of ozone in the air again, and suddenly she was sitting on the edge of her bed, still wearing nothing more than that shift. She glanced down at it, still blushing.

She could still feel where he'd touched her. The places he'd had contact with her were warm. She stood, giving a soft sigh and moved towards the wardrobe, pulling down a dress of grass green that had a simple design. She slipped it on and glanced at herself in the mirror. It would do. At least until she weaseled out of that stubborn king what exactly was going on here.


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 6

Seeing Goblins

Sarah set her book in her lap, still open to the page she'd been reading, frowning a bit as she glanced towards the door. She was being watched again. As the days passed, she'd noticed the sensation of being watched more and more often when there seemed to be no one watching more and more. She even started noticing queer shadows that skittered along quickly, accompanied by those curious whispers. Still, by her second week living in the same residence as his royal arrogance, and she was actually finding adjusting to life with him to be remarkably simple.

Once every day, he gave her the piano lessons, then he disappeared doing goblins-only-knew-what until dinner, where he arrived, had a brief and usually odd conversation with her, before leaving. The biggest victory she had noticed was that each night he seemed to venture closer to her, never more than one chair at a time, slowly moving from one end of the table. Also, he had begun taking a few opportunities to touch her casually.

Those times caused her heart to race with excitement. She hated admitting it, but she was...happy here. In this strange place, far from the eyes of her kind, accompanied only by a man who had captured her heart and imagination when she was just a girl was proving himself to be a surprisingly charming companion.

He escorted her to wherever she was going if he was with her, offering his arm like a true gentleman. He pushed her, dared her to defy him with every altercation, shoving her towards that edge where she knew eventually she could either step back onto familiar ground, or take that last step and possibly touch her dreams.

He didn't seek her out, didn't force his company upon her, would only remind her of her lessons and ask her if she would like his company for dinner. She found that during the quiet hours she wanted to go find him, if for no other reason to have some quiet company.

The sound of clattering footsteps drew her attention once again and she sighed, turning her head towards the door once more, even though she knew she wouldn't see anything there.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

Instead of an empty doorway, she saw a leather-skinned creature with an abnormally large head, long, pointed ears, and a big, toothy grin staring at her. Her jaw dropped and she would have screamed, except there was no point. The creature didn't seem to be looking at her with any particular intentions. Just staring at her.

She closed the book, using her hand as a marker. "Hello, I didn't know anyone else was staying here," she said, keeping her voice calm and quiet. It was quite a surprise that she managed that.

That toothy grin just got wider. "You're the Sarah."

"My name is Sarah, yes." She smiled a bit as well. It was obvious that the creature was excited, and it's joy was infectious. "What is your name?"

"I'm Scribble," it answered, moving towards her. "Are you going to marry the Kinga?"

Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened and she stared at the tiny creature. The thought was not displeasing – which wasn't something she was going to tell the goblin before her. "_What?_" It must have thought she was angry with it, because it started to run away. "Wait a minute," she stood, moving towards it and dropping to a crouch. She was surprised that as soon as she spoke, it stopped immediately. "Don't run off, please." She took a moment, pondering the question, which while it seemed innocuous, she knew better. "I don't know what you mean, Scribble. I'm just a captive here."

Scribble shook his head. "Not captive. Couldn't see the goblins if you's was captive. You's the Mistress, you're the ruler. Kinga-"

"Sarah-"

The goblin looked towards the door, a mournful expression on it's weathered face. She turned towards the hall, surprised by the sound of the king's voice. Jareth strode in, his face a mask of frustration. She straightened, looking at him, confused, curious. The small creature didn't bother hiding. The Goblin King, however, didn't seem to see the creature that clung to her skirts. "Is there a problem," she asked softly.

He checked his stride, seemed to consider for a minute. "Dinner has been served. You...had not arrived."

"Sorry, I didn't realize it was so late..." she offered, glancing towards the goblin, then back at the king. He still hadn't noticed the creature and her eyes widened in surprise as a thought occurred to her. Her gaze flicked between the sad, mournful goblin and the confused king.

"Is there something wrong, Sarah?"

She exhaled heavily through her nose. "If I said I'm seeing goblins, would you think I was going crazy?" The question, much like the goblins, wasn't simply a question. Her's was also in order to test a theory.

He gave her a small half-smile. "I've been told that all the best people in the world are at least a little crazy. I figure you are better than most." She knew he meant it as a light jest, but she glanced back down at the goblin for confirmation, catching the only faintest flicker of annoyance on the King's face.

"Kinga can't see goblins." It's eyes were a little watery as it spoke.

She swallowed hard, lifting her gaze back to the king. He looked perplexed, as wondering what had her attention. She gave him a weak smile, and stepped towards him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you from dinner," she said softly, accepting his arm when he offered it. She glanced back at the goblin a final time and saw it holding a finger to it's lips. 'Wait for me,' she mouthed at it, and it nodded it's head, scurrying off into the darkness.

As she was led to the dining room, she glanced into the shadows, seeing glowing eyes, other leathery faces, all of them looking at her with a hope that she didn't understand. She glanced towards Jareth, who always eluded her questions regarding this place and why he was here. Even the Jareth in her dreams hadn't been forth coming since the first time that she'd seen 'just Jareth'. Each night, he swung from one extreme to another, but always refused to tell her any more.

She must have sighed, because suddenly the full attention of the sovereign was on her. It was actually rather unnerving to so abruptly become someone's focus. Jareth came around her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Sarah, are you unhappy here? You've been...distracted lately."

She arched a brow at him. "You mean you've noticed?" The words were obviously more harsh than she'd intended, because he flinched and started to withdraw. She quickly caught his hands, preventing his full withdrawal. "I meant about being distracted." She swallowed hard. "Look, I'm not...unhappy. This place...it's like something from a dream. When I want peace, I get it. I have the ability to feed my imagination whenever I chose. I'm just..."

He inclined his head, his hand lifting, lightly touching her face. "Just what?"

She gave a rueful smile. "It's a little lonely, sometimes. You're the only other person here to talk to, and during the day, you're always locked away _somewhere_." She shrugged helplessly, but didn't ask him to move his hand, where it was gently stroking her. Finally, after a long moment of silence, she drug her gaze to his face, seeing the amazement written on his features.

"Are you asking me to spend more time with you, Sarah?"

Her cheeks warmed at the question. She pursed her lips and huffed. "Yes, I suppose I am. Maybe you're used to being alone. I'm not. I'm used to meddling stepmothers, well-meaning fathers, and nosy brothers. I enjoy some solitude, however...this is rather excessive."

His eyes were shining. No, that wasn't quite right. It wasn't just his eyes. He seemed to grow several inches in height, seemed to swell with pride or happiness or something, but his face was glowing. Not like humans would. Honestly glowing. Like whatever he was feeling inside was so strong it was showing through him, trying to explode out of him.

He looked beautiful and powerful like that. For a minute, she thought he might kiss her – especially when his other hand came up to the back of her neck and his face came startlingly close to her own. However, all he did was rest his head upon her own, his lips curled into a brilliant smile. "If it is company you want, you have it. Should you feel remotely lonely, you can find me." He withdrew a bit, his face still lit up from within.

Her heart stumbled a few beats, caught up with itself, and settled into a pounding rhythm. When he offered his arm once again, she slipped her arm through his, then rested her temple against his shoulder. She truly hoped he hadn't noticed the blush illuminating her features. It would only cause her trouble later.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

After dinner, Jareth escorted her to her room, still faintly glowing. That hadn't quite ever stopped during the evening. He was moderately embarrassed that it had happened, but there was little he could do about it. Of all the ways for joy to manifest, that was quite possibly the most mortifying, yet it was all he could do and still keep it contained.

She was willingly trapping herself. She was walking into it without realizing, and she was making it seem so simple.

He felt truly as giddy as a child. His inner power was pressing against his skin and he felt that if he didn't release it soon, he was going to explode. It was actually a pleasant sort of pressure. He simply had to find a way to release that much power safely. The easiest way would be to take the cause of it for a long ride in his bed, but that would be breaching far too many rules.

As it was, he wasn't certain the fae courts weren't watching this little power play between himself and his lady. He returned to his rooms, to his balcony and stepped outside of his current home. His hands were sparking already and he pulled his gloves off, deciding on a little bit of flash to release the feelings he wasn't allowed to let be known.

He threw one hand into the air and a streak of bright red shot from it, streaking into the air until it burst, showering red sparks every where. He'd always loved the fireworks from her realm, had loved the way they lit up the sky. It had given him a youthful sort of glee, figuring out how to manifest his power in such a way. The first few attempts had nearly set his new home on fire, but things always repaired themselves.

The next one left in the form of a green pinwheel, then a garden of color, each one exploding a different hue. He let out a laugh, letting the remaining energy leave him, one large white and blue one, that showered sparkling streams all around the grounds, cooling before they touched anything.

It was down to a tolerable level once again, however, every time he started milling over her words, he felt it rise. She wanted to spend time with him. Granted, it was likely because she didn't have a choice, but if they were together, it would make his job easier.

Would she accept her fate gracefully, or would she defy him, he wondered, staring out at the night sky, his lips still turned into a broad smile at the thought. It didn't matter. Either way, he knew she would keep his life interesting.

If he had his way, it would be like that forever.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah smiled in a bemused manner, then turned, almost shrieking when she saw the tiny goblin sitting on her dresser, at eye level with her. She placed a hand over her chest, taking a steadying breath. "Scribble?"

It nodded. Quickly, she moved towards it, and took a deep breath. "Why can't Jareth see you?"

The large head tilted. "This place doesn't like anyone to talk about it. It wont even let you and you're the one in control here."

She flopped onto her bed, sighing. "I don't know what you're talking about. How am I in control of anything-" She stopped herself before she finished that sentence. When she'd complained that sometimes she needed a place to think, Jareth had told her that she would have it. When she'd shown complaint about the too frequent solitude, he said she'd be able to find him if she was ever lonely.

What if those were more than just words? What if they were more like edicts?

Possibilities opened up and she turned them over in her head. The question about her marrying the king, the dreams, the way he seemed to defer to her wishes...

"That damn story again!" She was on her feet before the goblin could stop her. "Well, there's one thing this lump of magical rock can't stop me from doing! I'm going to go to the library!" She was out the door and tearing through the castle towards the large room. She'd just found the book she was looking for when suddenly, there was the sound of a huge explosion and she let out the shriek that she'd contained when she saw the goblin where she didn't expect one.

She ran to the window in time to see the large green pinwheel light up the sky. Every shape and color imaginable flew up into the sky, bursting with volume that would have been painful if she wasn't too busy admiring the handiwork. They were lovely, detailed, and brilliant. "Who made those?"

"Kinga. He's pleased."

She looked towards the small creature in surprise and then lifted her gaze again to the sky. "They're wonderful," she whispered. As silver and blue sparks flew down before the window, she turned back towards the goblin, her eyes curious. "Why do you say he's pleased?"

A knowing expression covered the leathery face. "Fireworks safe way to release energy buildup. Hard to explain. Goblins not magical like kinga is." That look turned sly. "And the Sarah say something to make him happy."

She blushed, remembering the words that made him glow like a fifty watt bulb. "Maybe," she agreed. She remembered the book in her hand, and lifted it, looking at the old style cover. "Four and Twenty tales..." she said quietly, then moved towards an over-stuffed chair, curling her feet beneath her as she took her seat.

She read in silence for a long time, the words of the story eerily familiar and parallel to the situation she found herself in. She read for nearly two hours, even as her eyes grew dry and began to sag in her exhaustion.

Eventually, she slipped into her dreams in the chair and the goblin, Scribble, sat there watching as the book fell to her lap. He gave a wide toothy grin and found a blanket folded up on one of the large bench window seats. He tucked it around her, setting the book at her side. "Sleep well, Queenie."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah walked under through the garden, her hands lightly touching the flowers as she moved. As usual, she only had to wait a short while until she heard the footfall telling her that he had come to join her in the dream once again.

He never spoke of the dreams, and the one time she'd mentioned them, she hadn't seen recognition in his eyes. That was when she had really realized that he wasn't aware of his evening wanderings. She didn't turn towards him, simply continuing on her path, slowing slightly to give him a chance to catch up with her.

Once he did, he immediately violated her space, which led her to look to see which side of the Goblin King was her companion this evening. Wild hair, wild eyes, feral expression. It was most definitely the king that was her companion. She gave him a smile of welcome, reached out, gave his face a gentle touch before she moved forward once again.

It was becoming habit, ceremony. A greeting that was just for him in her dreams, a greeting that she dare not do with him during her waking hours, lest he discover the feelings she harbored for him.

He fell into step behind her, slightly to her right, remaining silent. He seemed frustrated this evening, irritated even. She couldn't fathom why, especially since she'd discovered that whatever his mood when they parted that evening would determine which facet of Jareth joined her in the garden.

His garden. His heart, the self that she determined was just Jareth had called it. The core of himself. She touched one of the flowers and turned towards him after a moment. "How long have you been alone here," she asked quietly.

His eyes were faintly haunted. He stepped towards her, looking faintly intimidating. "A very long time, Sarah."

She lowered her gaze. "You were trapped here because you failed in stopping my trek through the Labyrinth, aren't you." Her eyes flickered up to check his expression, which was growing darker. "I'm right, I know it-"

"You're wrong," he said quietly. "You've been here so long, but still you do not understand. I am not here because I failed to stop you."

She stepped towards him, wrapping her hands in the soft shirt. She gave him a sharp glare. "Then why, Jareth? You need to give me a straight answer, because I'm not a freaking mind reader! I don't understand what I'm supposed to do! I can't help..." she felt a sob catch in her throat and knew he heard it. His eyes sharpened upon her face and his brow furrowed slightly. "I can't free you if I don't know what I'm supposed to do..."

His hand slipped up, caressed her throat lightly and Sarah gulped as she felt hormones dump over her head. God, the man was a sexual harassment case, just from breathing next to her. She stared up at him, trying to keep the angry, frustrated expression on her face. Those mismatched eyes searched hers as he leaned close, his lips brushing against her own. "Do you love me?"

Her eyes widened and she would have pulled away. One hand curled into a fist in her hair, preventing her escape. He didn't move closer, hovering just over her lips, his rasping against her own. Hesitantly, she licked her lips, which licked his as well. Something dangerous flashed in those eyes, which were far too close to her own. Her body was a quivering mass of tension and she gulped, feeling like a particularly tasty creature cornered by a very hungry predator. "Wh-what?" The words were stuttered weakly.

His head tilted slightly, his breath rushing over her lips. "How can I trap someone like you? How can I tie you to me, besides simple seduction? Especially since I want to seduce, to preen, to be everything I know I can be. But these stupid rules say none of that, so all I can do is wait and hope that you will trap yourself..." His eyes flared when her hands flattened against his chest, ready to push him away. "The rules don't apply here. The fae council can't see your dreams. You are outside their rules...so they can't see here..."

She gasped when he captured her lips with bruising pressure, his hands pulling her close, his body pressing close to hers. Her hands curled once again, gripping his shoulders through his shirt and she gave him a hard shove, moving with him until his back came in contact with a wall. She stared up at him for a moment, before attacking him in return. They moaned in unison and his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her flush against him, giving her a clear idea of what kissing her was doing to him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him and retreating, passions and temper dancing with each other. His hands didn't seem to wish to stay still, and suddenly he shifted, putting her between himself and the wall.

Suddenly, the kiss gentled and became a seductive brush of his lips across hers, his lips turned, caressed hers, turned, his teeth catching her lower lip, scraping it lightly. His hands softly slid down her torso to her hips, thumbs stroking slow circles as they moved. "Sarah..." he breathed against her lips. "Love me, Sarah..."

She lifted her hands, catching his face, holding him still as her eyes snapped open. That pleading, begging tone in his voice. It was heart-breaking and familiar. "Jareth?"

He was still dark, dangerous, but in addition to the darkness, she saw desperation. "There's not much time remaining." The warning was obvious.

The Escher room. The words at the end, the desperation. A failure. His failure. "You failed to keep me..." she whispered, stunned. She reached up to touch his face, but she was waking once again. Always, when ground was broken, the waking world drew her away from where she could find her answers.

She woke still curled in the chair in the library. On the foot rest was Scribble. In the shadowy corners around the room were piles of goblins. She lifted a hand to scrub her eyes, only to find that her cheeks were damp.


	7. Chapter 7

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 7

Troubling

Jareth stood under the freezing stream of water, his head hanging between his arms, which were braced against the wall of his shower. His breaths were still harsh and ragged from a dream he could scarcely remember. His body trembled, felt like it was on fire. He could remember lips against his, a taste he had never experienced. However, there was only one woman who'd ever been able to do this to him.

He knew he'd dreamed of Sarah, but he couldn't remember the dream, couldn't remember any details except that taste, the feel of her. And for some reason, he had the feeling that this wasn't the first dream of this nature since she'd come to stay with him.

He slammed his hand against the wall, slipping it along until he could rest his forehead on his forearm. "Sarah," he breathed quietly, his eyes closed against the pain.

Sometimes, things seemed to be moving incredibly quickly, leaps and bounds, followed by long stretches of inactivity. Last night had been a wonderful milestone. She'd requested his company, his companionship. Stated she was lonely. He should be thankful for that much from someone as willful and temperamental as his raven haired lady. She wanted his friendship.

That left a bitter taste in his mouth, something that had only started developing after he'd released all of the feelings her request had created. He didn't want friendship. He wanted the things he had the feeling that he'd been dreaming about for some time now.

It seemed that each night, he woke feeling electrified, stirrings of arousal. Up until now, he'd simply believed it was because he would see Sarah later that day. However, he should not know the taste of her lips. It wasn't something he'd ever experienced in the waking world. Yet somehow he knew. Sweet vanilla, warm and inviting.

Dangerous thoughts.

He gave a ragged breath and turned off the water, reaching out and grabbing the towel. He wrapped it around his waist and stepped from the shower, moving to his room, ignoring the puddles of water that he left in his wake. When he entered his room, he immediately noticed that there was another occupant. As there was only one other occupant in the whole of this place, his attention was immediately one hundred percent on her.

Sarah stood by the window, looking out at the slightly overcast skies. After a long moment, she turned her attention towards him. There was something about the expression on her face that caused anxiety to hit him, but he managed to hide the feelings well enough. He assumed a relaxed position and gave her a wild smile. "Why, perchance, have you decided to visit me this morning?"

Somehow, even here she still managed to be cruel. Her eyes didn't even flicker below his face and the only indication she gave that she was aware of his state of dress was a faint blush on her cheeks. "If I asked you questions about how you came to be here, would you answer me honestly, or would you lie?"

He blinked, startled at the line of questioning. "I beg your pardon?"

Moss green eyes bored into his. She pushed off the wall and walked towards him. He took a moment to admire the soft butter yellow dress she'd chosen to wear, with its accents of white lace. He loved it when she dressed like this. It gave him an idea of how she would look if she were his queen. Finally, he returned his gaze to her own and found that defiance that he'd fallen in love with. "Will you answer me with honesty, or with lies? I need to know."

He stepped towards her, watched the faint flush darken slightly. "Sarah, I am not currently properly dressed for a discussion. Kindly take yourself down the hall to my office and wait for me there." He took her hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. "I will join you as soon as I'm able."

She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I'll hold you to that." She withdrew her hand, and stepped around him. She walked with measured strides, and he watched her go. Just as she reached the door, she turned, and this time her eyes raked over his figure.

He actually felt vaguely violated and exhilarated at the same time. Moments later, her eyes met his and he wondered if he'd imagined the faint approval in those eyes before she closed the door between them.

Well, she certainly liked something that she saw, he thought with a faintly amused smile. Even after all these years, their natural attraction for each other hadn't faded.

He arched an eyebrow, wondering how the fae council would react if they'd witnessed that little scene. He was relatively certain they weren't expecting a lady like Sarah Williams. That brought to mind the nature of the discussion he was to have with her and wondered how to answer her question as well as how to explain the situation without actually giving away anything that could get him locked up in a lead-lined prison.

He let the towel drop and moved towards his wardrobe, throwing open the doors and considering the clothing, weighing it with his mood. Finally, he pulled down a loose black shirt and breeches, dressing with care and glancing at himself in the mirror. His fine, feathery hair was already nearly dry. A hand through it straightened it well enough to suit him. Finally, he pulled on his leather boots as well as his gloves, then hesitated.

He'd touched her without his gloves on.

He hadn't even realized when he'd done it. His hands were shaking badly as he pulled the gloves onto them and he took a deep, considering breath. It had become as natural as breathing. To touch her felt right, was as simple as a thought. So much danger every time he did. Every verbal intercourse with her, he found himself trying to get closer, so that touching her would be easier. Even at dinner, he was so close finally that he could see the shadow that her lashes left on her cheeks when she closed them as she spoke.

Soon, he would be close enough to brush her hair back from her face.

Sighing, he moved towards the door, pushing it open and heading towards his office.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah had stood with her back to the door for a moment, as her brain caught up with the visual stimulation and she processed each and every piece of data, willing herself not to be overwhelmed by it.

"I's tried to warn ya," the goblin Scribble mumbled, looking up at her.

She gulped hard. "It's fine...I just...wasn't quite expecting that..." She pushed away, still processing the data. What struck her most – besides his toned physique, of course – were the white lines that cut across the skin of his back. Scars, old wounds which had healed, but still marred his otherwise smooth flesh. She swallowed hard, glancing towards the goblin as she walked. "How did he get the scars?"

The small creature looked uncomfortable for a moment, then glanced up at her in return. "I's not at trial...Kinga taken away, and then when we's next saw Kinga, he coulna see us..." It looked sad. "I's not at trial, but I's help bring him here. I's saw the wounds. Lead whips, Lady." That lower lip trembled and it's eyes watered. "They beat him..."

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back tears of her own. She forced the emotions back and focused on everything else. Despite those mars on him, or perhaps because of them, she found herself quite attracted to him. She'd always acknowledge the attraction she felt, even when they were adversaries, however, she'd never gotten quite that much of an eyeful of the King in all his glory. The scars didn't detract from that. If anything, they proved that he was a strong man, because he'd been beaten like that and had survived.

A blush infused her cheeks, and she gave a guilty smile. She just hoped that this little sneak preview of the man didn't somehow slip into her sleeping hours, leaving him clad in little more than a towel in her dreams. Although, that had certain merit-

Whoa, girl.

She fanned her cheeks, even as Scribble pushed open the door to the King's office. She found a comfortable leather chair and sat upon it, curling in such a way as to hide the fact that she was still wearing her jeans under the lovely dress. It never hurt to be well prepared for any and all situations, after all.

She found a stack of books on the table beside the chair and lifted one, opening it and beginning to turn the pages, flipping through it with interest. It was a book, but it wasn't a story. It almost reminded her of a scientific text and she shifted getting more comfortable. A few pages in, she sat upright and stared. Her fingers quickly turned the pages, faster and faster as she realized that this book wasn't just a text. It was a book on the use and execution of magic. Channeling it through a physical form and manifesting it.

She'd just gotten vested interest in the book, when she heard the door open and shut. Jareth moved within, and as he stopped at the chair behind his desk, a pile of correspondence dumped upon it. She arched a brow, using her hand to mark her page and closed the book in her lap.

After a long moment, Jareth looked towards her. He looked rather tired, almost exhausted. She caught the faintest view of white lines that streaked over his shoulders, mostly hidden by the collar of his shirt. "You wished to discuss something, Sarah?"

She gave the stack of envelopes a brief look before looking mildly at him. "I think it can wait until your daily work is finished," she said quietly.

His expression became odd, and he glanced towards the pile. He scooped them up in one hand, flipping them over, at the back of the envelope. She arched a brow as he began going through them, then heaving them over his shoulder. "Unimportant, I don't like them anyways...oh, they can jump in the bog...twice." The little musings continued until he held the last envelope in his hand. Those fingers gave the faintest tremble, only visible because the envelope quivered.

Sarah glanced at the front of the envelope, and read the words Fae Council. "Is it important?"

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly, setting that envelope down carefully on the desk. "I'm sure it's just a reminder of my timetable."

_There's not much time remaining..._

Sarah shivered faintly, remembering the desperation in his voice. She met Jareth's gaze and took a deep breath, uncertain how to ask again. "What do you need from me?" She saw the surprise on his face and she stood, moving towards him. She set the book aside on the desk, setting her hands down on the wooden surface as well. "You must need something, is it so hard to tell me what that is?"

There was genuine regret in his eyes. "I cannot," he said, his voice quiet.

She met his gaze, straightened and took a deep breath. "How am I supposed to know what I have to do if no one will tell me," she whispered, searching his eyes. "I want to help..." There was something else in his eyes. Something that made her heart ache. "Please-"

"I cannot," his voice was still quiet, but the look in his eyes...pain. She suddenly realized he wanted to tell her – would tell her if she demanded it. However, if she did, she knew it would hurt him.

She moved around the desk and gently set her hand on his cheek. "Is there nothing you could tell me? No hint that might point me in the right direction?"

He turned his face away, removing the slight contact between them. "There is nothing, Sarah. I wish...that it were otherwise." He gave her a grim smile. "Worry not, I presume that you will not need to worry soon enough..." He picked up the letter and glanced at her. "I prefer to look at this in private-"

She hesitated. "May I stay? I won't bother you..." Having him reject her touch hurt, but she wasn't going to just walk away from him. She wouldn't let him face the demons in that letter alone. If he wouldn't tell her what she could do for him, then she would try to support him.

The grateful expression was masked a moment after she'd seen it. His eyes closed and his face twisted into an expression of pain once more. "Sarah-"

"If my company is all I can offer you, at least let me do that much! I know..." She curled her hands into tight fists, feeling her nails bite into the flesh. She lifted her face, looking at him in defiance. "I know it's my fault that this happened to you!"

He seemed shocked that she knew that much. The letter fell upon the desk and his hand landed on it as he stared at her, his jaw gaping slightly. There were tears on her face and she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself.

"I...just want to help you..." She refused to break the gaze, refused to lift a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Just...let me help you..."

"Sarah," he said softly, offering her his hand. She moved towards him, lacing her fingers with his own. "Do not cry, I implore you." He gave her a small smile. "I wanted to be angry when it first happened, but the fact is you are not to blame. It is not just you. I am as much to blame for my solitude, so do not set the weight of it upon your shoulders."

She sniffled, and finally used her sleeve to wipe the tears away. A handkerchief was pressed into her hand and she blew her nose in it. It wasn't a particularly lady-like noise, and after doing so, she glanced down at the square of cotton and then glanced at the owner.

His lips were clamped together hard, and he was shaking a bit. When she glanced back at the hanky, there was a sputtering sound and she looked up in time to see his control shatter, and he fell forward onto his desk, laughing. She wanted to feel indignant, but every time he glanced at her and the hanky, he started over again, and it was rather infectious.

She gave a faint giggle as well, and she dropped the square into the waste basket. "I think that one is ruined..." she said, giving him a sheepish smile.

He lifted his gaze, still grinning far too widely. After a moment, his gaze fell to the letter on his desk and the smile began to fall. "I appreciate the offer, Sarah, however..." he hesitated.

"It's private?"

He sighed, then shook his head, disheveling his star-kissed hair. She suddenly had an almost irresistible urge to reach out and smooth the wild strands back for him. "It is difficult to explain."

She inclined her head. "I don't need to know the contents-"

"Ah, but were I to extract them, you would hear regardless." He rubbed the back of his neck and gestured towards the chair she'd sat in before. He stood, moving to the one beside it. "Let me tell you a story, Sarah..."

There was an awkwardness to him that was endearing, as though he had a secret that he was nervous about sharing with her. She sat down in the chair, and was surprised when he took her hands, staring at them as his thumbs gently stroked the back. She swallowed hard, glancing at his face, but he wasn't looking at her.

"Once, a very long time ago, a prince was born. He was the pride of his mother and father: a very clever, very handsome, very bright young boy. He excelled at his subjects, be it maths or more creative endeavors. He had a grip on magic that most only ever dreamed of, and it was raw magical talent. However, the boy had one flaw that no one could suspect."

She blinked when he mentioned a flaw. Before she could stop herself, she spoke. "Besides an overwhelming ego?"

He glanced up, a faint smirk on his lips. "That would have been considered a fine attribute." He paused for a moment, before he continued, as though gathering his thoughts. "No, the flaw was something less obvious, unless, of course, one was his instructor. You see, the boy could not..."

When he stopped, she thought he had changed his mind about telling her. "Jareth?"

He looked up at her, as though startled, and she barely realized that she'd spoken his name. She felt a blush light her cheeks, but she didn't look away. He shook the shock off a moment later, and lowered his gaze once again. He cleared his throat a bit, before he spoke again. "He could not read, Sarah."

She blinked, stunned. She lifted a hand, tilting his face up, unable to believe his words. "Are you serious?"

He gave her a faint smile. "He tried for years to learn, studied carefully. Finally, in order to continue his education, he learned a spell which would read the text for him, out loud. This way, he was able to study, to learn stronger magics, so when he was an adult, no one dared claim he was not fit to rule his kingdom." He gave a weak laugh. "The one thing that he loved more than anything, the thing he wanted more than anything, was the one thing he couldn't have… As ever."

She blinked at that phrasing, as if there were more things he desired that he could not obtain. She searched his face as she dissected the words and a thought came to her – Jareth in her dream begging her to love him. She swallowed hard, resting her forehead against his. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, then gave a faint smile. "Well, you might not be aware, but I tend to read in the evenings before dinner. I wouldn't mind sharing the stories that I read with you. That is..." she paused, straightening, and smiling for him. "If you wouldn't mind keeping me company."

He looked surprised. Then a pained smile turned up his lips. "That sounds lovely," he agreed, his own hand lifting and touching her face. "However, I would not have you trouble yourself with this correspondence, my dear. Go about your day. I will likely miss our piano lesson today, however, you should practice, and I will meet you in the library around six. Is that acceptable?"

She smiled at him gently, and nodded. "I'll see you then." She brushed off her skirt and stood, glancing back in time to see him break the seal on the letter. She desperately wanted to know what was in that letter, however there was nothing she could do about it. Not now, anyways.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Jareth stared off into nothing, the letter still open on his desk, the crystal that held the reading spell rolling about mindlessly. They weren't watching closely, but they knew something had happened. They had to. That was the only reason he could think that they would be moving his trial forward.

The truth of the matter was the ones orchestrating this didn't want him to succeed. Several of them wanted to see him fail, much as they'd always enjoyed watching him struggle. He'd not been trying to grow closer to Sarah by telling her that bitter secret. His own kind were not particularly kind in the face of failure, however they were never able to unseat him completely because he always found a way to get around their rules.

Except with her.

He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair. How had she known? Why did she know that this situation had come about because of her refusal to stay at his side? He couldn't fathom an answer to the multitude of questions running through him.

Finally, he stood, not letting this little pitfall stop him. He could only move forward, enjoy the remaining time with his lady. A glance at his timepiece found that he was correct. He'd completely missed her lesson. However, about now she would be curling up with a book in the library, an activity she'd invited him to join her in.

He gave a small smile as he closed the office door, deciding to spend some quality time with the woman who held his future in her small hands.


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: This chapter contains smut. Bring tissues...there will be a warning further on, and if you do not wish to read the smut, don't read past the page break during the dream. No complaints if you disregard the warnings and read on._

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 8

Kind of Like Magic...

"_The rest is silence!-silence and joy for those who had endured so much suffering, yet found at last a great and lasting __happiness," _Sarah read softly, her eyes still upon the page as she read the last words to one of her favorite classic pieces.

The afternoons had been as such for quite awhile now. After breakfast, he would disappear to deal with his correspondence for about an hour. After that, she'd have her piano lesson, then they'd have lunch. She'd get an hour of quiet time to pursue personal endeavors and after that, Jareth would meet her in the library, where she would read to him from the books there. The first few days of this ritual, he sat in a chair across from her. However, not long after they began, he came over and sat beside her.

Today he'd given up on sitting in the other chair. He'd simply settled down at her side. She'd looked up when he'd entered, and she'd been surprised at how exhausted and resigned his expression was. Yet, he didn't try to stay away from her, and for that, she felt grateful.

She was entering the last paragraph of the story, when a soft weight hit her shoulder and her voice froze in her throat. With a deep breath, she hazarded a glance in his direction and found his eyes closed, coal colored lashes resting softly on his high cheeks.

She smiled softly, closing the book, setting it on the table beside the couch she sat upon. She lifted a free hand and gently touched his face, her eyes smiling. She loved the little things like this. Squibble said it was a sign of trust that the king would sleep with her in the room. According to her goblin companion, monarchs had to be wary regarding things such as that, because someone was always waiting to knife them in the back. Supposedly, there were married couples who did not sleep in the same room for that very reason.

The first time had actually been during her quiet time. She'd found him in his office, staring at that letter and had asked if he minded if she sat and read in the room. He'd been surprised by the request, and she thought he might tell her no, but he just gave a faint nod of his head and went back to staring at the letter. Not long afterward, she heard the soft sound of snores coming from his desk and had looked up to find the man asleep. The knowledge that he was trusting her to watch over him when he slept caused that already present warm fuzzy to grow stronger.

More intense.

She shifted, helping the man lay down, his head resting against her thighs. Her fingers lightly played through the pale strands of his hair, over his soft, even skin. "Jareth," his name came out a sigh and she leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm scared, I don't know what to do..."

She sighed softly. "I wish I could see daddy. I could ask him what to do..." Suddenly, a shudder worked its way through her from her head to her toes and she rubbed her arms quickly. She did want to see her father, but she was suddenly wondering what that wish might have caused.

She couldn't lie, she truly enjoyed living here with Jareth, but the dreams were growing more and more worrisome, as though he were giving up hope. She didn't want him to think that she didn't enjoy spending time with him. Hell, she'd gone as far as to request his company. She liked being beside him.

She'd come to realize after staying here that what she'd thought of as love when she was fifteen, that feeling that she'd felt, the certainty that he was the only man who she could feel that way for were pale in comparison to the feelings that were growing the longer she stayed at the Goblin King's side.

She'd thought she'd loved him before, back when she did not know the man. This passionate, changeable, two-faced man- a man who was letting her see his vulnerable self.

She leaned down, gently kissing the soft strands of his hair, her lips faintly smiling. She still didn't know exactly what he needed from her. She only knew that she would try to do what she could to free him.

"Kinga looks comfy."

She jumped, blushing guiltily for her actions. "Scribble?"

The goblin gave her a sly look. "Ya not 'supposed to kiss his hair, silly girl. It only works when ya kiss the lips."

The color of Sarah's cheeks went from pink to red and she hid her face a bit. "Scribble, do you know what I'm supposed to do?"

The goblin hesitated, his face turning serious. "Scribble knows...but if we tell, it won't work. The Champion has to figure it out herself." Another hesitation. "Is sorry, wishes I could."

She reached forward, touching the goblin's hair gently. "It's alright. It's not your fault... Jareth says it's not mine, but I know why this happened. It's because I didn't stay. But knowing why doesn't tell me what to do. "Somehow, I can't help but feel that he's running out of time, and if I don't figure out what's wrong-" Her voice broke and a sob shuddered through her.

The sound must have woken Jareth, because his eyes snapped open. She saw the shock in his eyes and within seconds, he was sitting up, his hands reaching for her. As though he caught himself, he stopped, his hands falling away. "Why are you crying?"

She looked up into his face and saw restraint – a leash that was holding back passion. She reached up and gently touched the corners of his eyes, giving him a sad smile. Tears fell from the corners of her own and after a moment, her hand dropped. She didn't want to get his hopes up and then hurt him, she didn't want to get her own hopes up and get her heart broken.

She forced herself to look away and began to stand. Before she could step away, however, his hand caught her wrist. She froze, unable to turn back to him, unable to walk away. After a moment, she felt his chest against her back, felt his breath stir the hair at her ear. "Why are you crying, Sarah?"

She shuddered, eyes falling closed. "It's...nothing," she whispered softly. His hand wrapped around hers, his free one gently touching her arm.

He was quiet for a long moment. "Is it because you miss your family?"

She heard the resignation in his voice and blinked, startled. She turned, seeing that his face was blank, expressionless. "Jareth, no..." she whispered, shaking her head. "I miss them, I do, but that's _not_ why I was crying." Regret in mismatched eyes. She wanted to kiss him, to relieve his fears, but she didn't. Instead, she decided to strap some steal to her spine and act like Sarah Williams, instead.

So she balled up her fist and punched him in the shoulder, giving him her hardest glare. He looked stunned, looking down at where she'd punched him. His hand still did not release hers.

"Ow."

"If you don't want to be hit, don't be an idiot," she snapped. She saw him start to frown, and used the same hand she'd hit him with to grip his hair. "If you ever call me a liar, I'll...I'll..."

He scowled at her. "You'll what?"

She almost lashed out at him again. "Am I your friend or not?"

The idea that they were friends must have shocked him, because he stared at her mute, his jaw gaping slightly.

She swallowed hard, stepping towards him, wrapping her hand around his as well. "I'm your friend, and it's not right to call someone who is your friend a liar, _e__specially_ if they're not lying." She took a deep breath. "I miss my family, Jareth. They're my family, how could I not? But I'm not just some stupid, spoiled child who is going to whine and bitch about it. I made the decision to come here."

The rather frightening expression that had been forming on his face gave way to one of bemusement, as though he wasn't really sure what to make of her. "Then why were you crying?"

She gulped, pondering how to explain that. She'd just said that lying wasn't kind to do to a friend, and she didn't really want to lie to him, anyways. But she was afraid, so afraid of giving him honesty. With a deep breath, she pondered how to tell him. Finally, she bit the bullet and just spoke. "I was crying because I'm worried."

He looked at her, his lips in a faint frown. "About your family?"

"Again, yes, but that's not why I was crying." She finally pulled away, pacing a bit. After collecting her thoughts, she turned to him. "I was worried about you."

Bemusement melted away, leaving wonder in its place. Why was he so surprised that she would worry for him? Heaven, this man was as confusing as he was enchanting, as frustrating as he was wonderful-

She didn't get a chance to think anything else, because his hands cupped the back of her neck and his lips were upon hers quite suddenly. Her eyes went wide in shock, but all she could do was melt into it. He tasted of magic and dreams, she noticed. Her hands reached up, gripping his shirt and her eyes fell closed even as his tongue swept into her mouth.

He must have noticed her perfect willingness to let things continue, because he shifted his grip, his hands gentle, resting on her ribs. They didn't shift restlessly, as was their want in her dreams. No, it was as though he was testing his own restraint.

Somehow, she felt hers might shatter before his own.

He wouldn't even kiss her steadily. Sometimes his lips were the barest brush against her own, other times firm and unyielding. His tongue was equally as changeable, sometimes tracing her lips, other times plundering her mouth. Nothing for very long, even though the embrace seemed to last an eternity.

Finally, he gasped sharply, putting her away from him, his eyes wide, filled with passion and something else, something familiar and frightening, yet also deeply comforting. Want and need and something sweeter.

Love.

She'd suspected it in her dreams, had hoped for years that they were more than just words in the story. That there was something there- that the plea hadn't been a mere ploy to trick her into losing. Since her arrival, the suspicion had grown, and now...

"Jareth-"

"Don't," he said quietly, backing away from her, putting space between them. Pain and fear were beginning to fill those beloved eyes. Before she could be certain she saw them, he turned away.

She watched him, stunned to see his hands shaking – fists at his sides. She wanted to go to him, wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how. She swallowed hard, uncertain how to step back onto the safe ground between them. Her dreams hadn't prepared her for anything like this. She swallowed hard and forced herself to speak. "Will I see you at dinner," she asked softly, looking at the floor.

"If that is your wish."

She swallowed, forcing herself to speak. "It is." She looked up, finding him looking at her, his eyes gentle.

"Then I shall be there."

She didn't want him to see her cry again so she stiffened her upper lip and headed towards the door before rushing back to her room.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Jareth watched her leave and sighed softly, lowering his head. Damn his self-control. He'd just broken one of the rules, one of the most important rules. Physical contact was bad enough, but if the courts should find that he kissed her before she accepted that she was his...

He swore with passionate creativity and winced. He was completely screwed, he decided, a sigh escaping him. Somehow, however, he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He might die, but at least he had known the taste of her before then.

She tasted as he had always dreamed she would. He knew this would wreak havoc on his dreams, which were already waking him with increasing certainty that he was dreaming of Sarah, even if he couldn't remember the precise nature of them.

He ran his hands through his hair, sighing heavily before he left the library and headed back towards his bedroom. He needed some time to cool off before he saw his lady at dinner. This evening, the silence was almost deafening, and he gave himself a moment to embrace the fear he'd felt for that moment before she'd told him why she'd been crying.

It was an ever present fear that he still didn't have enough allure to keep her away from her family. He knew she missed them, would hear the wistful tone in her voice whenever she spoke of her relatives. When one added that to the awareness that he was having dreams of a semi-erotic nature involving the woman in question – dreams he was getting flashing images from – the whole situation became a confusing stew of emotions.

Just thinking of those dreams caused his body to react and he swore with vicious intensity, quickly closing the door to his room and leaning against it. It would have been a pleasant form of pain if there was any way to relieve it. However, he was stuck until she agreed to remain at his side.

It was the most stringent rule when dealing with the human realm. Intimate contact between a fae and human caused bonding. Physical touch could last years, a kiss was a lifetime. Sex – well, the mortal might as well sell their soul to the devil, because once and it was eternal. There was no breaking a bond like that.

The human would be a slave.

A large part of him worried that when she'd touched him, she'd triggered the mildest form of bond, yet he'd kissed her. He'd kissed her and...

She hadn't shoved him away, hadn't shown any revulsion towards what had happened. He'd tied her to him for the rest of her natural life, and there was no breaking that bond. He had belonged to her for a long time, but now, if she decided to remain in her world, she would feel out of place, would reject men for reasons she didn't even know.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed softly. It would send ripples of magic through both realms, and there was no way the courts wouldn't find out about this. And when they found out, he would be arrested and executed. He was not supposed to entice, but the courts would not have been prepared for a woman like Sarah Williams, who could destroy him or make him feel like he was ten feet tall just with words alone.

The idea that she worried for him warmed him, touched him, and he reacted in a way that felt natural to him. Holding her, and kissing her felt right, even if it chained her to him for the rest of her life. They would both be miserable, however. It was the only possibility.

She would never give up her family for him.

Besides, he wouldn't win if she had no choice. It would only be a real victory if she made the decision herself.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah watched Jareth over dinner, seeing that he was quiet, reserved. They were still teetering on that uncomfortable edge that the kiss had pushed them onto. She had been so certain that she'd seen love in his eyes. Now, however, it was as though the intensity of the afternoons had given way to cold apathy.

He had done as she requested, sitting at her side, but the warm companion that she'd grown to appreciated was gone.

She ate what she could, but it was sitting like a stone in her stomach. Eventually, the silence broke her. She quietly wiped her mouth with the napkin, set her flatware down on the table and began to stand.

The action drug Jareth's attention to her. "Sarah?"

She sighed softly. "I'm tired," she said equally as quiet. "I'm going to bed."

He seemed to realize that something was wrong, because he sharpened on her, those eyes fixated upon her face. "You do not look tired. You look..." his eyes widened and he began to rise. "Sarah, you're sad."

He probably didn't mean for it to sound accusing. Still, it stung that he hadn't been aware that his behavior was hurting her. "I don't want to talk about it, Jareth." She straightened, moving towards the door.

"Sarah?"

She stopped, because she couldn't disobey the confusion or hurt in his voice. "You don't need to worry. I'm just...in a mood," she lied. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Jareth."

There was a brief silence, before he responded. "Goodnight...Sarah."

She opened the door and headed to her room, wondering what had happened. She _liked_ the Jareth that didn't ask for the things he wanted. She liked the warm man she'd come to know as well. In fact, she liked him well enough, she wanted to protect him. So she didn't imagine that she'd ever leave him unless it was necessary.

Or his own wish.

She winced at the thought, entering her bedroom and closing the door behind her. Scribble was on her bed, hands wrapped around a fist of colored pencils. An idea popped into her head and she moved towards the goblin. "Scribble, are you bound here? I mean like Jareth and I?"

"Ladies only bound by her promise. It's Kinga's prison, though. Goblins still have their work so we come and go as we please," he hesitated. "I don't like leaving the Kinga."

She hesitated just long enough that the goblin looked at her. "Scribble, would you entrust the king to me if I entrusted you with a favor for me?" It frowned a bit. "I would feel easier if I knew how my family was faring. Could you look in on them for me?"

"Won't leave kinga?"

"I never intended to leave when I came here. Even before I knew it was Jareth."

The goblin nodded. "Scribble will check on family." The goblin stood up and walked towards her, its large eyes searching her own. "The Sarah...will take care of the King."

She gave him a smile. "I will."

Then Scribble was gone and she moved towards the bed, laying down. "Alright, you overgrown peacock. This time, I'm not letting you wake up until I get some real answers..."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

**.The following contains smut.**

Jareth was walking through the Labyrinth, his domain, his home. Except it wasn't quite the same. It was as though a green hedge maze was trying to impose itself over the brick walls of the structure. Certain areas, there was the scent of flowers in bloom. In others, he could hear brownies laughing.

He finally turned a corner and looked around in surprise. There was no garden like this in the Labyrinth. However, something about the place made his heart ache. Flowers of every kind bloomed in the garden, and there, in the middle...the woman of his dreams and nightmares. A woman he could never control, and only by her own grace could he be close to her. Somehow he suspected she didn't have much grace for him this evening.

There was grim determination in those fiery green eyes. He stepped past the gate and suddenly, he had the sensation of being trapped with a dangerous, unpredictable animal.

"Jareth."

The way she said his name caused a shiver to tear through his body. "Sarah," he greeted in return. He moved towards her and wondered what she was planning. Or, better yet, why they were in a place that shouldn't exist within his Labyrinth. "Where are we?"

She hesitated at that, her full lips drawing into a faint frown. He had the distinct sensation that she was drawing opinions about him as he stood in front of her, but he wasn't aware of what those opinions were.

Something else filled her eyes after a moment and she stepped towards him, pressing her hand gently against his face. "You really don't remember, do you?" Her words were nearly disappointed. "This is the first time you didn't remember. So I guess it's the same for you, this time."

"Sarah, what are you talking about?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she asked her own question. "Do you love me, Jareth?"

He froze, looking at her, startled. He opened his mouth to deny it, but there was something about the way she was staring up at him that held his tongue. Longing and no small amount of fear. He had to be dreaming. There was no possible way that Sarah would look at him with that combination. He swallowed hard.

Well, if it was a dream, there was no point not offering honesty. "Yes," he said quietly.

She moved closer to him, and he could feel the heat of her through his clothing. The hand on his face slipped back into his hair and she tugged him down gently. "I love you, Jareth."

Further confirmation that this was a dream. It could only be a dream. How could it be anything else. The idea of Sarah loving him was so impossible that he almost wanted to laugh – to scoff – at her confession. He didn't have a chance, because Sarah pushed up, her lips grazing his gently.

Not impossible, he decided, his hands catching her ribs as he responded quite happily to the feeling of her intimate affection. "Sarah," he breathed against her lips, enjoying the feeling of his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. He pulled her closer still, his hands starting to wander over her body. Just a dream, so what was the point of denying her? After all, there was no way the council could see into his dreams.

Unless of course, this was a test orchestrated by them.

He gripped her shoulders, pushing her away. She gave him a fierce glare, and her hands, no longer gentle, gripped his hair and drug him back to her lips. This time, it wasn't a gentle brushing of lips. This time it was an impatient, frenzied, needy feeling and it made him weak.

Her lips left his, finding his throat, kissing and nibbling along the skin there. It was delightful, delighting. He felt the stone wall against his back and he groaned softly, one hand slipping down to caress her rear as he felt her mischievous hands slip down to his shirt, into the collar, gently caressing the scarred flesh there. "Sarah," he practically begged.

No shame in begging. No harm. He needed her to understand that if this continued-

Who cared? It was his dream, and this was likely all he would ever get. The fantasy of having her for just a few moments was better than the reality that she would never feel for him as he did for her. He gripped her harder, arching his neck back so that she had easier access.

Her teeth grazed his neck and she withdrew, looking down at him, her eyes dark with longing. He was almost awestruck to see such an expression on her face. "You've been pushing me away the whole time that I've been here, like you're not certain how to behave," she said quietly. "I want to help you, even if all I can do is ease your loneliness before your time runs out. Why won't you ever let me?"

The answer stuck in his throat because she was kissing him again, kissing him like there was nothing else she'd rather be doing. He moaned deeply, turning, pressing her back into the stone wall, his hands easing the sides of her shirt up. The stretchy shirt was tossed away, and he shuddered as he looked down at her bare skin. "Because I am afraid," he finally whispered, tracing his fingers over her collarbone, towards her shoulder. "If I allow you to see too much of me, it will truly kill me when you leave me for your family."

She stared at him, startled. Then her hands speared into his hair and she drew him back down into another drugging kiss. He moaned desperately against her lips, shifting his grip so that she was only slightly off the ground. "Jareth, you ass, don't you know I've loved you from the start?" She whispered when she finally broke for air. Her hands were pulling at his shirt as well.

He helped her pull it off of him, releasing her for only a moment before he pushed close, a gasp that sounded desperate – even to him – leaving his lips. Her body felt hot, almost burning him from head to toes. "You still left me," he wasn't accusing her, he was begging for a promise he knew he wouldn't get, even in his dreams.

She looked up at him, grief in her eyes. "I'm here now, and I'm old enough to accept what you offered then." Her whispered words caused joy to race through him and he leaned down, taking her mouth with his.

Sarah's hands ran over his back, tracing scars she couldn't see, making him tremble in response to her gentle touch. He grabbed the straps on her under clothes and slid them down her arms until her breasts were freed of the cups, his hands moving to support them. His weight was the only thing that held her up now, assisted by her legs at his hips, pressing them intimately close.

He dipped his head, tasting her flesh there, listening to her appreciative moan. Her hands gently tilted his face up and she leaned down, kissing him with a tenderness that nearly broke his heart. Those gentle fingers swept through his feathery hair, caressing his scalp, following down to his neck and finally sweeping across his shoulders. "Sarah," he breathed softly, his eyes closing as his head tipped back.

She squirmed a bit, shifting downward which caused sharp pleasure when she pressed against the hardened flesh still encased in leather. Her lips grazed his collar bone, slid down farther; tasting him as he'd tasted her. He walked backwards, and when he fell onto his back, it was on a soft bed with dark red covers.

His chambers in the Labyrinth, not in his prison.

Sarah looked down at him, her eyes black with a pale ring of green. "Jareth," she whispered softly. Her hands gently wandered over him. He reached upwards, touching her face tenderly, his hands still wrapped in their gloves. Her hands took his own and he watched as she pulled the gloves off of them. His breath shuddered out of him. To him, she was wild, wonderful. Everything he'd ever wanted.

Her eyes didn't leave his as she took one of his now bared hands, setting it against the flesh over her heart. He could feel its beats, could feel her own hands trembling just a bit. His own free hand trembled slightly and he set it on her hip, his index fingers restlessly touching the skin over the waist of her jeans. It felt like she was offering more than her body. Like she was putting her heart in his hands as well. "Kiss me, Sarah."

It was half order, half request. She didn't seem to care much, because she leaned forward and her kiss burned through him.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

**.THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING.**

Sarah didn't mind his somewhat dominating personality. Jareth would always be like that. What caused her equal parts fear and exhilaration was the naked joy on his face.

Every time she looked at him, there was that unrivaled happiness, the pleasure that went beyond what she was doing to his body. It almost broke her heart, and she wondered how long he'd been waiting for this. Lightly, she ran her hands down his front, until she reached the ties which held the leather trousers in place. She broke the kiss, and looked down into his eyes as she untied them.

His eyes fell closed and he caught her hands. She impatiently broke his grip and started shoving his pants down. Once his hardened flesh was exposed, she stared for a moment in mute shock. Heat raced through her and she sat up on his thighs, gently exploring it with her fingertips. A startled cry left the man beneath her and she glanced up, seeing a face in so much pleasure that it was almost pain. It was empowering knowing that she could make him wear such an expression.

He moaned her name and his head fell back as she swept her hands down his legs, taking the pants off. Once they were out of the way, she gave herself a few more moments to touch and taste him, kissing his thighs and hips as well as other parts of him. He moaned and cried out and whimpered when she finally pulled away, straddling his hips, looking down at his face. The feeling of him pressing up against her through her jeans caused her heart to race.

When his eyes finally opened, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it slide off of her, then she went up on her knees, unbuttoning the jeans slowly. His hands came up to help her slide them down as far as they could. However, once they exposed the lace of her panties, his hands went to more mischievous tasks.

They slipped up her thighs, lightly caressing her center, and his eyes darkened with even more longing. Before she could shift, he sat up, pressing his lips against her stomach, slipped the underwear down to follow the jeans which were bunching at her knees, and his fingers found her moist and ready. She cried out sharply when one long finger slipped into her easily and she clutched the man to her breasts. His breath rushed out across her heated flesh, causing gooseflesh to rise.

"By the gods, Sarah," he whispered, "you feel..."

She tackled him, slamming him back into the soft covers. She squirmed out of her pants, kicking them off, and then she straddled his hips once more, putting herself over him. She searched his eyes and found the love and longing that she felt for him and slowly lowered herself upon him.

She shuddered, and her own moan was punctuated by a sharp cry from Jareth. She felt his fingers tightly gripping her thighs and remembered to open her eyes. She hadn't even realized she had shut them. Fourteen years of dreams and fantasies, condensed in one moment. She'd never have the guts to do this any other time. Only now, when it was a dream and she could guide it how she wanted.

It had surprised her to realize that Jareth was walking through this one as she usually did. This wasn't like the other dreams, and somehow, knowing that he might remember this the next day made it more necessary.

Experimentally, she rocked her hips, and the man beneath her moaned, his hands sliding down her thighs, then back up, cupping her backside. "Sarah," he moaned.

She shuddered at the feeling of power this gave her. She swallowed hard, leaning forward, kissing his lips, cupping his face between her hands as she began to move on him. His arms wound around her and he was moving against her as well, his lips gasping and moaning and she drank the beautiful sounds from him.

At any moment, one of them could wake up, resulting in the end of this, so it became vital that she burn this into her memory, to fight waking until they both had what they wanted.

It was insanity, really. It had to be. Slick bodies sliding together, lips pressing and then retreating. Nails biting into flesh. And that pulsing need that was only growing stronger.

"Jareth," she begged softly, pressing her face into his neck and moving harder over him.

He gripped her hips, guiding her rough movements. "Let go, Sarah. Just let go."

She nodded, and a wail of pleasure left her. Trying to muffle the sound, she bit his shoulder fiercely, worrying the skin with her teeth. That drew a sharp cry from him and she lifted her face to watch his face twist in ecstasy. Finally, she collapsed in exhaustion, her cheek on his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath her ear. His arms wound around her, holding her close.

"I don't want to wake up," he whispered. "I don't want this dream to end. Because then this will have never happened...and I will never know this pleasure in the reality of the waking world."

"You will," she promised softly. "You're not getting away from me that easily."

He gave a raw laugh. "They'll kill me, Sarah. How can you stop them, darling? Even I cannot stop them."

She propped herself on her elbows, looking down at him. "You couldn't stop me, either."

His eyes widened and he stared up at her, dumbstruck.

She smiled warmly, gently touching his cheek. "Maybe I'm the only one who can save you, Jareth. I hope I am. I want to be."

He trailed his fingers lightly over her cheek, a wistful look on his face. "Nothing could bring me more pleasure."

Sarah noticed weight on her chest and realized that she was waking up. She leaned forward, kissing him tenderly. "I love you, Jareth. Don't forget that."

"I won't forget anything," he promised, holding her hand over his chest. "Thank you, Sarah."

Before she could respond, she woke, eyes snapping open as she found a concerned little goblin sitting on her chest. She saw the worry in those watery eyes and gently shoved it off of her, rolling out of bed and going to wash her face. Her legs felt weak, and to her surprise there were some impressive love bites blooming on her neck.

"Lady, I done as you asked..." There was fear in that tiny voice. She paused, glancing at the goblin, who was shuffling its feet.

There was a reason for the fear, she knew it. She took an unsteady breath. "Scribble, what's wrong?"

"If I's tell you, you'll go run to family, instead of staying with Kinga..."

Heart lodged in her throat. "Please, tell me."

It lowered it's head and she saw it was trembling. "The champion's sire. He's in a sick house. His heart isn't working well..."

Her knees grew weak and she settled on the bed, unable to remain upright. "Daddy?"

"Please, don't leave Kinga..."

Sarah closed her eyes tightly, hugging herself. The truth was, she didn't want to leave. She loved being here with him. She was happy. And if it was truly her father's time to go, being there wouldn't stop it. She worried her lip between her teeth and stood.

"Where's the lady going?"

She glanced at Scribble and then went to her closet, pulling down a lovely dress of rose silk. "I'm going to talk to Jareth."


	9. Chapter 9

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 9

Letting Go

Jareth startled awake, his heart pounding. He licked his lips, tasting the slightly swollen flesh there. He could taste her upon them, as if he'd only just kissed her. His body was covered in sweat and a glance beneath the covers had confirmed that not all of the sticky moisture was from exertion.

_Jareth_...

_I love you, Jareth. Don't forget that..._

His face warmed and he fell back to the sheets, staring up at the ceiling, his hands shaking. He could remember a dream. A very erotic dream, which featured Sarah seducing him damn near breathless and having her wicked little way with him.

Just thinking about it caused his body to harden with readiness and he groaned, pulling a pillow over his face, hoping to stifle his reaction. Here he was, centuries old, and he'd just had a wet dream like some fledgling adolescent...It was embarrassing, and arousing. He shouldn't be surprised that it had come to this. Suppressing his own sexuality was going to break him. Maybe the council was counting on that.

He stood, moving towards the door that led to his bathroom, cold spray starting immediately, as if the stones themselves knew that he needed something besides his typical hot bath. It had been like this the other time, as well.

He sighed, stepping beneath the icy water, and shuddering as it dealt with the remains of the physical reaction. It didn't, however, stop his mind from racing. How long had he been having these dreams? Did they start before Sarah arrived, or after? Was it simply a test given by the council? Was his mind finally snapping and turning towards dreams such as the one last evening to cope with it?

He didn't know. He didn't care.

He washed quickly and stepped from beneath the spray, wrapping a towel loosely around his waist and staring at himself in the mirror. He was glowing again. From a dream, something that he'd always remember, but it wasn't real; it wasn't reality.

He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed, looking at himself. "You're pathetic, highness," he muttered to himself, then headed back to his room to change his clothing. He'd just pulled on his pants when he heard a gentle knock at his door and before he could answer, it was pushed open by the only other occupant of this prison.

Head hung low, Sarah walked into the room and he took a moment to look over her. She was wearing a rose silk dress, accented with creamy white lace. She looked lovely, but she also looked sad. His shirt slipped from his hands and he moved towards her automatically.

"Sarah, whatever is the matter?"

Her head lifted and he saw grief that went beyond measure in her eyes. It tore him apart, seeing that much pain on her face. Unable to stop himself, he enfolded her in his arms, holding her head against his chest, stroking her hair. "Darling, if you do not speak to me, how am I supposed to fix whatever is troubling you?"

She shook her head. "I don't know how to..." He almost came out of his skin when her small hands came to rest at his waist. "Could you just hold me for a minute?"

"I would hold you indefinitely if it pleased you." The words were out before he realized he'd begun to speak. He felt her still, and her face lifted, looking up at him. He gave her a rueful smile. "I can't complain about it, my dear. You fit well against me, and..." he stopped himself before he gave away more.

Her hands went to his shoulders and she gently pushed him away. Pain washed through him. He turned away, letting his hair shield his face. He forced himself to speak. "Why have you come to me, Sarah?"

"It's daddy."

He went still, and then turned towards her. She was shaking, hands in small fists at her sides. Suddenly, he understood her hesitation before. She was going to ask him the favor he never wanted to grant her. Oh, but he would grant it. If it would make this woman happy, he would move the stars, re-order time, and throw himself before the firing squad. "What has happened to your father, precious?"

She swallowed hard. "Could you...look on him for me?"

He blinked, surprised, and then sighed, a rueful smile turning up his lips. "This seems like too much fear for such a simple request." She stilled and turned towards him and he realized that this was her fear held in check to the best of her ability. He extended a hand then led her to a chair. Once she was seated, he retrieved his shirt and pulled it on, then called in a crystal.

He glanced in it and sighed heavily, the scene before him already telling him how the scene in his room would end. He was going to break his own heart. He sat down in the chair opposite the young lady and took her hands. Gently, he set the crystal in one. "Look in."

She did and he watched her face twist in anguish. "Then it's true..."

She didn't cry. Even in all of her pain, she didn't shed a tear. He turned the crystal back into his own hand using his magic to rewind the time to learn what had occurred. "It was a blood clot; it broke loose and went to his heart. He is stable currently."

"Is he going to make it?"

He could lie to her; however, if he said what he wanted to, and she never got a chance to see the man again, she would never forgive him, might even hate him. No, he would rather be remembered fondly. "Sarah," he said gently. "Looking at the future is one of the most heinous crimes that can be committed by those with control over time. If you ask it of me, I will do it, but you should know that immediately after I do, I will be executed. There is no leniency in that case."

Her expression became stricken and pale. She shook her head fiercely. "No," she whispered. "I won't ask. Thank you for looking in on him, Jareth..." She stood, preparing to leave.

Gently, he caught her hand before she could walk away fully. "Do you want to see him?"

She paused, turned towards him and looking at him, stunned. "What?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm offering you a chance to go to him," he kept his voice calm, not letting her see his own fear, his own worries. She had enough of her own without him adding to them. Those mossy green eyes were wide in surprise, and then the expression changed. There was knowledge, as though she understood that something that was happening now would have repercussions. "Do you wish to see him?"

She swallowed hard. "How long are you offering me?"

"Would I could give you as much time as you may desire, however, I can only allow you a few days."

She lifted a hand, touching his face gently. "A number, so that I can limit myself. A few days can mean two, or it could mean a week."

He swallowed hard. A week from today he would stand trial for his crimes. After that, he would be executed if found guilty. "A week would please you?"

Those eyes grew murky. "It's not just about me..."

"I believe it would please your family," he said quietly.

"What about you?"

He blinked, looking up at her in surprise. "Sarah?"

She pulled her hand away from his and went back to pacing. "It's that damn story again. He lets her go, because it's what she wants, but he gives her a week, after that...if she's gone longer than that..." She stopped and turned back towards him. "I don't want you to get hurt, Jareth."

He closed his eyes, smiling sadly. "Ah, Sarah. How are you able to be so kind and yet so cruel," he wondered, shaking his head. "This isn't a story, my dear. This isn't words on paper. If life is imitating art, then all we can do is believe that we can change the story's direction. This is your life and you are the one in control. So I ask you, do you want to go home for a week."

He watched her throat bob as she swallowed. He wanted to taste that column of flesh, to see if she tasted as delicious as she had in his dream. She was looking at his face, staring at him and he knew what her answer would be. Or at least he thought he did. "Not at the expense of losing you."

He stared up at her, awestruck by the woman who he loved. All he could do was gape stupidly up at her as she cupped his face between her hands and pressed a gentle kiss against his mouth.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

His shock was a sweet taste in her mouth. For a brief moment, she thought he might push her away, however, that belief fled when he moaned and his hands gripped her, pulling her into his lap. Once she was settled, his hands began moving restlessly over her, more how she remembered he'd held her in her dreams. When his bare fingertips slipped along the square neckline of the dress, she trembled, gasping softly.

She was getting ready to pounce on him much as she had in the dream last evening, when his hand flattened against her chest and he pushed her away just a little bit. His eyes were glazed with pleasure and need, and she found that it was a rather fetching expression on the sovereign.

"Sarah, you don't know what you're doing-"

She inclined her head and arched an eyebrow. "After last night, you really think that?"

He blinked, as though confused. "Last night?"

She leaned closer, tangling her hands in his hair and shifting so that she straddled his lap, her skirt hiked up to her thighs. His face twisted into an anguished expression. "Yes, you glittery git, last night. When we wandered the Labyrinth, searching for each other, and ended up in that garden. You know, when I seduced you breathless?" She kept her voice taunting, daring him to deny it.

He stared up at her, his eyes wide, pupils dilated. "That was you...?" At her nod, something purely predatory flashed into his eyes. He gripped her face, his skin glowing once again. He was luminescent, like a star in the form of a man. "Sarah," he breathed, his mismatched eyes showing something that she'd never seen in them before.

Joy.

He cupped her face between his hands and his lips were upon hers, caressing, seeking, demanding her to respond to him. She shivered, slipping her hands down the back of his shirt. She gently caressed his scarred back, letting his lips ravage her own. The kiss was long, drugging, intoxicating.

She couldn't help but notice that he still tasted like magic and dreams. Her dreams.

Finally, he drew back, that arrogance she remembered so well back on his face. "Say it again, precious thing. What you uttered last night; I want to hear it again."

His eyes were bright, wild, and feral. Gently, she pushed some of his hair away from his face and gave him a tender smile. "I love you," she said softly, resting her forehead against his. There was a breathless laugh from the man holding her and she was in an embrace so tight, she almost couldn't breathe.

His hands gently stroked her hair and back and he murmured words that she didn't understand against her ear. Despite not understanding them, she recognized them. He'd murmured them to her in her dreams. Gently, she stroked his back as well, smiling. Eventually, she felt him pull away and she lifted her face, looking up at him. He was shining so brightly. "Like a star, gone to ground," she murmured, touching his skin gently.

He brushed her hair back with his gloved hands and stared at her face, the initial joy giving way to wonder and intensity. "Sarah, you cannot know how long I've waited to hear that. It makes me want to do something to make you as happy as you've made me." His thumbs gently brushed back and forth over the downy hairs of her cheek.

She smiled warmly, lifting her hands, holding them to her face. "I don't need anything except you," she said softly.

"There must be something you want," he insisted.

She arched an eyebrow and gave him a wicked grin. "Well, if you're up to the occasion, I'm game for a replay of last night...you know, awake this time." As she spoke, his eyes just got more and more wide and she relished the ability to completely shock a man who was centuries older than herself. Gently, she set her finger under his chin and pushed his mouth shut.

He chuckled faintly, shaking his head. "Darling, as delightful as that sounds, I'm bound by rules which I've already managed to break. To break that one...well, let's just say that it would just push my current situation into greater relief...and...my time table would grow shorter still."

She took a deep breath. "And not being able to tell me anything is one of the rules?" She couldn't deny that she didn't feel the slightest disappointment that there would be no reinvestigation of the sovereign's body. Just to make sure everything was as she'd left it, of course.

"Unfortunately, my dear, it is." He sighed, toying with her hands. "However, you've given me a greater joy than I believed I would experience in this life. Love is...incredibly uncommon among the fae. To experience it..." He shrugged. "To have it returned is even more rare."

"If you're trying to scare me away, it's not working."

He chuckled once more, looking in her eyes. "Darling, I thought I was quite clear during that dream. I was in love with you all those years ago, when you were but a girl, I've loved you ever since, and I love you now. Believe me when I say that 'scaring you away' is not on my agenda."

"Then what is on it?" She was challenging him and she knew it. There was a smirk on his face that told her that he was aware of the challenge as well.

"Well, my dear, the first thing I would do is take you before my kind and tell them that you are my wife of your own choice. Then I would place a crown upon your lovely head. I'd follow that up with a several day sabbatical from the drama of the goblin kingdom during which you would not leave my bed for anything short of using the facilities."

A blush rose on her face and spread down over her breasts as he spoke. The wicked intent in his eyes thrilled her and she gave him an equally wicked smile. "Are you sure you could keep up, highness?" Playfully, she pressed her hips against his own, still challenging him.

Something dangerous and delightful flashed in his eyes and he suddenly gripped the back of her neck and was getting acquainted with the far corners of her mouth. She just gave a happy groan and put her arms around his neck, feeling what kissing her was doing to him. She moaned, slipping off to a happy place.

He was pushing her towards an edge and she would quite happily follow him there, except for that mentioned time table. She rested her hands on his shoulders and gently eased him back. "I would love for this to continue...and I would happily follow you where you're leading, except...I don't know what would happen after."

He looked at her face and gave her a soft smile. "You're right, my dear. However," he paused, glancing out the window. "It is plenty early today. Would you give your day to me?"

She blinked looking up at him, seeing a wistful look on his timeless face. She grazed her lips against his jaw, and nodded. "Consider it yours."

He stood, lifting her to her feet as he went, and set her on the floor. "Come then, let us retire to the library. I would have you read to me..."

She took his hand in her own and smiled warmly at him. "If that is your wish," she teased lightly.

He laughed his face alight. Sarah found the sound to be surprisingly pleasing to her ears. "It is, precious thing, it most certainly is."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

She had done as he'd asked. She'd dedicated the day to him, spending her every waking moment at his side. She'd read to him in the library, and rested her head upon his shoulder when they'd gone to the music room, where he'd let his fingers meander over the keys of the piano.

Most of all, she'd spoken of her dreams as they were now. She had chosen library sciences because of her love of books, but in truth, she had always wanted a family of her own, with children around her. Family was important to her.

Now, he lay in his bed, Sarah Williams at his side, sleeping with her head pillowed against his chest. Unfortunately, he couldn't sleep. His mind was torturing itself, as he continued to glance into a crystal, monitoring her family's condition.

Karen Williams was beside herself with grief, having lost a daughter and possibly losing a husband in such a short amount of time. Toby was angry and frustrated, pacing the sterile white tile floor of the hospital.

Robert Williams lay in a hospital bed, being monitored by doctors.

He sighed, looking down at the woman who slept peacefully on his chest. "My dear woman, would that I could keep you. However, it appears that as much as I need you, so does your family...I," he stopped, grieved.

He tossed the crystal away, and it disappeared. He curled closer to the woman who held his dreams and his life in her delicate hands and realized that he was going to have to play the dreaded hero. He didn't want to. He wanted to take her before his kind and tell them she had given herself to him. However, if he did that, she may never see her father again.

He might die, and she would never forgive him. Not really. And worse, he wasn't certain he could forgive himself.

Gently, he stroked her soft face and gave a sigh. "Sarah, my darling, thank you." He took the medallion from around his neck and placed it over her head. "So that you never forget," he said softly, and then kissed her forehead. As he withdrew, she was already fading away, going back to her family.

He stood, going to his closet, drawing out fresh clothes. After all, when heading off to one's own execution, one has to look his best. He gave a devil-may-care smile and dressed himself impeccably in black silk and leather, coiffed his hair just so. He was just finishing up when the figure appeared behind him.

He gave a half-turn and a broad smirk.

"Has the girl left the premises?"

"Oh, that?" Jareth just shrugged. "I sent her home."

The person swelled about a foot in height and then laughed outright. "Then you lose, Goblin King. The crown is mine."

A secret smile bloomed on Jareth's face. That's where you're wrong, you fool. My crown goes only to whom I chose, and she already bears the crest...

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

That night, her dreams were troubled. She was running through the Labyrinth, trying to get to the castle, trying to reach something. But she didn't know what she was trying to reach. The sky was dark and frightening, like the sky before a storm.

Over and over she ran through, trying to reach something, but she could never find what she was looking for. She'd try to get people's attention, but she was ignored.

Jareth was nowhere to be found. The only sound that followed her through the Labyrinth was dark menacing laughter.

She woke with a start and sat upright, her breaths heaving. After a moment, she lifted a hand, resting it against her heart, waiting for it to slow. She turned slowly, setting her hand where Jareth should be.

Except the bed beside her wasn't covered in expensive cotton; she felt cheap polyester beneath her fingers and it was cold. She reached sideways, and flicked on the light. Tears filled her eyes and she couldn't deny the mixed sensation of joy and fear.

She was sitting in her bedroom at her family's home.


	10. Chapter 10

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 10

Sense of Loss

Sarah slowly lifted her hands, wiping the tears which were falling down her face. She didn't know what had happened, she didn't know why it had happened. Maybe Jareth didn't have faith in her, or perhaps her longing to see her family had put her in this situation.

Oddly, her room was exactly how it would have been if she'd never gone to Jareth. Even everything that she had taken with her was in its precise place. On her small desk was her ballerina figure, standing alone, as it always did. She could see the books and pens and papers that she'd brought with her on the top of her desk, scattered, as if she'd just held them the night before.

The whole situation was surreal, like waking from a long dream, except it couldn't have been a dream, for the wrapped packages sitting neatly upon her desk with a perfectly shaped crystal ball beside them.

She knew then that it hadn't been a dream.

The first indicator were the packages on the desk, the second – there seemed to be a goblin guard lying on the foot of her bed. Upon further examination, she recognized the guard as none other than Scribble, and she grabbed the goblin, waking it from it sleep. "Scribble, what happened? Where's Jareth? How did I get here?"

For a long moment, it stared at her groggily, not really understanding what she was saying, but eventually it gave a look of panic. "You left kinga?" It jumped to his feet, giving a wail. It raced around her room, crying and fretting.

She shook her head, trying to understand the situation. She'd given the day before to Jareth, spending every waking moment with the sovereign. He was tender, sweet, loving. He loved her, she knew he did, and she loved him. So why had she wound up here? Suddenly, her tears stopped and a horrible realization struck her.

"Oh, god, don't tell me he sent me home due to some misguided sense of honor, because if he did, I will kick his skinny fae ass so hard that he has to fart to change his mind!" She moved towards her desk and sat in front of the packages, her hand slipping over the cool surface of the crystal. It broke like a soap bubble, and all that was left was a small bottle and a piece of parchment.

The parchment had what she could best describe as chicken scrawl on it, and she stared down at it, trembling. "Jareth, your handwriting sucks," she whispered, wiping away tears. She knew it hadn't been written, but rather dictated and a clever spell had copied his words down, but somehow she knew that if he had written it, that his scrawl would look like this. "It's worse than a doctors..."

_Dearest Sarah,_

_These are gifts for your family. The bottle is another sort of gift. It is a concoction known as "elixir of dragon's blood". Give your father three drops for the next three days and he will be right as rain._

_My love goes with you,_

_Jareth_

"AGH!" She grabbed the bottle gently and was on her feet, heading towards the door before she'd finished her irritated shout. She threw the door open and glanced back, her face blazing with frustration. "Scribble!"

Scribble scrambled after her.

She barely made it three steps down the hall when she heard the sound of the front door being opened and she raced down the stairs. She met her step-mother and brother as they walked into the house.

The two of them stared at her for a full minute before they realized what was wrong with the picture, and suddenly she was in Karen's arms and the older woman was sobbing uncontrollably. Sarah hugged the older woman tightly and stroked her hair.

"Sarah, how did you get away from him," Karen choked.

A shuddering sigh escaped her and she shook her head. "I didn't escape...I didn't plan to leave. I should have known that his stupid, idiot self would do something like this..." She felt tears gathering in her eyes and pressed her face into the woman's shoulder. "You jack-ass, I never asked you to play the hero..." she whispered, tears gathering and tracing hot paths down her face.

Toby set a hand on her shoulder, his eyes meeting hers. "What happened?"

Oh, he'd gotten strong in the months she'd been absent. He'd grown up, wore a cloak of maturity that fit him surprisingly well. As he guided her and his mother to the couch, she studied the much younger boy – no, it was a crime to call him a boy at this point. He was a young man, now. A shuddering breath left her and she squeezed her hands together so hard that her knuckles turned white.

Slowly, she began to speak, telling them everything, from the dreams to her growing closer to the sole companion she had there – besides Scribble, of course. Naturally, there were some parts she didn't feel comfortable sharing with her family. However, she told them as much as she dared. As she reached the end, tears had begun falling down her face once again and she pressed her palms to her eyes in an effort to stop them.

After it was over, she sat there, slumped, feeling defeated. Toby was the one who snapped her out of her misery.

"Why would he do that?"

She leaned back into the couch cushions, accepting a tissue from Karen and wiping her eyes and nose. "I wish I knew..." The utterance had no sooner left her mouth when nearly heart-breaking pain struck her and suddenly, she _did_ know.

She didn't realize that her wishes would continue to come true. After all, she was back in the realm of man, away from the in-between place that was filled with magic. Yet, somehow, someway, she knew.

_The fae are not a forgiving race, and when one of their sovereigns fail...they react poorly._

_You, you are my failure, you succeeded where you should have failed._

_It's not your fault, it's mine._

_I love you._

It wasn't her success that condemned him, it was his acceptance of the loss. She covered her mouth, stunned. He let her go, and that was his failure. But he did it because he loved her. Just like this time. He let her go because he wanted her to be happy, because he loved her.

"Oh...Jareth, you fucking idiot," she moaned, pressing her hands to her face once again.

Suddenly, her brother's hand touched her and she felt him lift something from her chest. She blinked, opening her eyes and looking at him. "Toby?"

"This...is familiar..." he said quietly, staring down at whatever he held. His eyes lifted to her face and she watched realization dawn upon him. "Not...bad, but not entirely good either. Like a memory that's barely there."

She took it away from him and looked down at it. Her heart lodged in her throat and tears wet her cheeks. He was right. Familiar and foreign, something she'd seen, but didn't really focus upon. It wasn't quite the same. Somehow she knew this was smaller, more delicate, more feminine. It should have been dark, but it was made out a bright silvery metal, bright gold in the center. It seemed to glow from its own light.

The medallion.

She clutched it close to her chest and she curled around it. She'd never felt such a strong sense of loss before. It paled in comparison to the knowledge that she might lose her father. "You idiot, I'll miss daddy, but if you die, I might die too..."

Karen gently rubbed her back for a long time while Sarah got her emotions under control. "You sound like you care for him a lot, Sarah."

She almost broke down again. "I love him," she admitted, ignoring the surprise on Karen's face. Finally, she sat up and looked at her step-mother, trying to accept Jareth's gift. "How...is daddy?"

Karen's eyes glistened with tears.

"Not too good," Toby offered, sitting down too, looking remarkably glum for someone who was always so filled with vitality. "The doctors say he should recover, but there's no way to be sure. I'm not happy that this is why you're back, but...I'm glad you're home, Sarah." He lifted his blue eyes to look at her, looking remarkably sad.

Sarah lowered her head and kept her silence. She didn't know how to tell her baby brother that she wasn't going to be home for good. "It'll have to wait until dad's awake, but I think I have something that can help..." she kept her voice low, didn't want to get their hopes up.

About an hour of quiet worrying later, Karen ordered Chinese food, and they all sat down to eat their dinner. Midway through dinner, the phone rang and Karen stood, rushing towards it. Once she was gone, Toby focused on her. "So I guess he didn't eat you...what's he look like?"

She pushed her fried rice around her plate, sighing softly. "Like...a beautiful beast," she said with no small amount of sadness. "You remember the stories of the Goblin King? I told them to you when you were small."

He inclined his head. "Of course. You breathed them, and it was like they were real."

She lowered her face, watching the food move with it. "They were more than stories, Toby. The Goblin King...is real. I've been enchanted by him for a long time. When I was fifteen, I made a foolish mistake and...I wished for the brother, who I cared for very much, to be taken away by the goblins."

Toby blinked in surprise. "You _what_?"

"Imagine my surprise to learn that goblins really did exist..." She gave a soft laugh before she continued, "and their King appeared in the nursery. I was amazed, maybe even a little afraid of him. I begged for him to give you back, but-"

"What's said...is said..." he uttered, his lips faintly frowning.

She nodded. "Maybe it was just a game to him, but he offered me a chance to win you back. I took the gamble, even knowing that my fate was questionable if I should fail. He and I fought each other, we were adversaries. And in the end..." She lowered her face and glanced away. "He begged me to stay. In few words, I refused him, he sent us home and the story ended for the girl and her brother. However...it didn't end for the Goblin King. By refusing him, I condemned him."

She gave a shudder. "How little I understood anything. I knew so many stories, but I knew next to nothing about the fae. Jareth...was punished for his failure, and has been exiled from his kingdom to that place that father found. The 'beast' in this situation...is the Goblin King. And when he learned of my father's illness, he did exactly what he'd done so long ago." She hesitated for a moment, taking a steadying breath. "He let me go."

Toby stared at her for a long time. "Then that medallion you're wearing...it's his crest? Why'd he give it to you?"

She gave a weak shrug and stood. "Probably so I'll remember..."

Before her brother could comment in return, his mother rushed out of the living room, a bright expression on her face. "Robert's awake! Quickly, let's go! I want him to see that his little girl has come home!"

Sarah hurried upstairs to change, glancing briefly at her mirror, her heart aching. She knew why he'd given it to her. A memento mori. Proof that he'd lived, proof that he wasn't just some dream of hers. He'd given it to her so she would always remember him.

She quickly changed out of her clothing and into something she'd be more comfortable in here. She set the dress on her bed and glanced towards Scribble. "Can...you check on Jareth for me?"

The goblin shook his head. "Not anymore," he said, his large eyes fastened upon her, filled with grief.

She lowered her head and nodded. "I'll find a way to get back to him, Scribble, you have to believe me."

The goblin just gave a half-shrug. "You said you weren't going to leave him."

"I didn't _want_ to leave him!"

Another shrug and the goblin continued to sit, sullen at the foot of her bed. She sat beside him and took the small, strange hand. "I love him, Scribble. I love him more than anything. He...he sent me away. I didn't ask for him to, I told him that I didn't want to go if it meant losing him..." Tears pierced her eyes.

The other strange hand brushed her tears away. "Not very queenly to be crying. You go see the Daddy. Scribble...will try."

She gave the small creature a brief hug, then jumped to her feet, hearing her brother calling her from downstairs. At the door, she hesitated. "Scribble, they can't see you, can they?"

A slight smile. "Only one can. He just hasn't noticed yet."

Toby, then. She nodded, then walked out of the door, pretending that she didn't notice that goblins seemed to be laying siege upon her parent's house. Before she went out to meet the others at the car, she glanced back inside, gripping the medallion that rested over her heart.

"Please, be alright, Jareth..." she whispered as she closed the door and then headed to the car.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah looked down at her pale-faced father who was struggling to speak to her around the tube they'd shoved down his throat and wondered what on earth she was supposed to do about that. She didn't figure that Jareth would know much about modern mortal medicine, or that the tube was forcing her father to continue breathing.

Karen had turned away, hiding her face in her son's shoulder. Sarah knew from the way her shoulder's were shaking that she was crying. Gently, she stroked her father's hair back from his face, giving him a soft smile. "Hello, daddy."

Tears wet her father's face and he lifted one of his own and gripped hers. She knew he wanted to say something, but the tube in his throat wouldn't let him any more than it would allow her to administer the elixir. Tenderly, she brushed his tears away and answered the question she knew was on the tip of his tongue. "He let me go," she said softly. "He found out about you being here, and he let me come home."

Shame on his face, and he turned away from her so that she wouldn't see it.

A short time later, a nurse wearing scrubs with bright Hawaiian flowers printed on it bustled into the room, seeming to be bursting with energy. "Alright, Mr. Williams. How about we take that tube out so you can tell everyone that you're doing just fine?"

The woman's voice was bright, fake. Forced. Which told Sarah that despite the doctors 'positive prognosis', her father's health was not lasting. He'd likely never fully recover if she didn't give this elixir to him. Silently, she thanked Jareth and looked towards the nurse. "When you're done, could you get him a glass of water?"

The nurse scowled at her, but Sarah kept her gaze mild. "Yes, of course," the nurse said, finishing the procedure to remove the tube.

Once she was gone, Sarah pulled the little bottle out of her pocket. "Jareth gave me this, daddy. He's the one I've been with all this time. He says...that it'll help you get better. He wouldn't lie to me," she said calmly when her father shook his head fiercely. "If you don't take it, you might die!"

Everyone in the room looked startled, stared at Sarah as if she'd spoken forbidden words. She forced herself to calm down. "Dad, when he sent me home, he did so at great personal risk. I don't know the whole of the situation, but it's not good. I...I think his kind are going to kill him," she took a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure it's against their laws for him to give me something like this, too."

"Sarah..." her father rasped, his voice sounding sore and hoarse.

The nurse came in once again and Sarah hid the bottle in her pocket. The woman gave her a hostile look and set the cup down on the table out of easy reach. "There we are. I'll let you talk to your family-"

Sarah caught her arm and gave the woman a dark look. "Stop treating my father like he's got one leg in the grave already. You're a nurse. Your job is to make my father feel comfortable. If you don't like that, find someone else to come the next time he needs checked on."

The nurse looked startled and scurried away like a mouse.

When she was gone, Sarah pulled the bottle out again, ignoring the shock on her families faces. It was true, they'd never seen her like that. Not really. But this was the part of her that being with Jareth had nourished. Her backbone, her refusal to settle for less than her own desires.

Carefully, she tipped three drops of it into the cup, noting that in it's pure state, it was bright, shining blue. It dispersed into the water, giving it a soft glow and she lifted it, turning towards her father. "Now I'm asking you to drink this, but don't think that if you way no I won't pour it down your throat."

Toby snorted softly, sounding amused.

Robert scowled at her a little bit and then put his hand out. "Give me the damn cup."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

A leather clad hand striking his face jolted him from waking. Damnation, he felt weak. Slowly, he stirred, opening his eyes and peering up at the face of his tormentor. He inclined his head, seeing the disdain in the man's eyes. Jareth, former king of the goblins gave a lazy smile and short chuckle. "Good to see you as well, Tribane. How are your wife and children?"

"Sit up." The pale-haired man whispered harshly.

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible." He inclined his head, still smiling. "You know that Lesly is quite brutal with those he dislikes. I can't move a muscle." He glanced towards the small window in his just-as-small, rank-smelling prison. "Am I in the dungeon beneath what was once my castle? I can smell goblin piss."

Hands gripped him and drug him upright, and a silver cup was pressed against his lips. "Drink, you damn fool." He kept his voice low, and it was rough. Now that Jareth was upright, the room dipped and swirled. "The clubs that Lesly uses are iron. He beat you rather savagely after you returned."

"He'll beat you if he catches you feeding me water."

The man was silent, helping Jareth sip it. "Why did you let her leave? She was almost yours! I watched more closely than the others. I saw her kiss you, I saw her holding you."

Jareth sighed, accepting the assistance as he lay back on the straw that was his bed for now. "I love her, Tribane. She is my heart, and she was in pain. I could no more hold her captive for eternity than I could kill myself. She would never have been happy away from her family-"

"This wasn't about making a human happy! It was a con! You were supposed to convince her to come back and be your queen since you rejected Olivia-"

"I know well what I was supposed to do." His mismatched eyes sought out dark blue. "I am haunted by her, old friend. She, who defeated me. She, who rejected me. I was enchanted with her, and I love her. Imagine my surprise to learn that she loves me as well. However, her father may be dying, and I could well have lost that affection if he had died and she'd never gotten to say goodbye."

"You understand the mortal well, then?"

"In some ways I know her, in other ways she is strange and foreign. However I cannot chain myself to another. I took the risk and bonded with her fourteen years ago. As a result, I've sealed my own fate. I'll take my memories – both good and bad – to my grave."

Tribane closed his eyes tightly and he stood, striding towards the door. "It's not too late."

"It is," Jareth replied.

With his head hung, the fae left the room.

Jareth's eyes went again towards the window, where twilight was settling over the goblin kingdom. No doubt, the council was preparing to hand his kingdom over to that weak prat Lesly. It was as though they were enchanted by the whelp. For now, however, all he could do was wait the week for his trial to arrive.

A voice, like gravel, came from the bars. "Jareth."

Again, he turned his face, and his lips turned into an amused smile. "Hello, hasn't it been awhile."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

That first dose improved Robert Williams health so dramatically, he was discharged from the hospital the next day. He'd been stubborn about taking it, but having seen the results, when it was time for the next dose, he was less hard-headed about it. So her relief regarding her father's state of health should have caused her some joy.

Unfortunately, it didn't.

She missed Jareth. Missed him more than she thought was possible. And upon returning home that first night, she realized how much. She lay abed in her goblin-littered room and cried into her pillow so that they wouldn't hear her. She cried until finally, she was pulled into what she'd hoped to be sweet dreams, where she could see and hold Jareth again. However, this wasn't to be.

That night, her dreams took a disturbing turn. She was in a small stone room and a man was leaning over another. This other was half-stripped and chained with shackles that caused his flesh to blister and burn as they held his arms up and away from his body. That body was covered with bruises and scars.

She flinched as the man brought down a long, slender club across the man's arms and shoulders again and again. The man that was chained never screamed in pain, didn't so much as whimper, although she knew that he must be in agony. _She_ wanted to scream for the man to stop beating this other, but she couldn't find her voice. She could only stare in horror as she heard the audible sound of bones cracking as the darker man struck the other one in the ribs and stomach – like a man hitting a home run, he swung at the waist with more force than was necessary to cause pain.

The darkly-clad man curled a hand in the tangled mess of hair that belonged to the other man and jerked his head up. When his face was finally visible, she bit back a pained moan.

He was bruised, battered, his hair was matted with blood beyond all recognition, but it was _him_. Jareth.

"You're disgusting, falling in love with a mortal! Letting one control you! You're disgusting and you're weak!" The man swung again and struck Jareth on the side of the face.

"STOP!" She finally screamed. She surged up in her bed, covered in cold sweat. Her t-shirt was damply sticking to her skin. She touched her face and felt the tears pouring down her cheeks. She pressed the balls of her hands against her eyes and sobbed. "Jareth..."

Little bodies began crowding around her, all looking as despondent as she felt. The goblins looked up at her with sorrowful eyes, not blaming her. Not one of them looked up at her like it was her fault.

That didn't change the fact that she FELT that it was her fault.

Tears continued to fall. "I don't know what to do..." she whispered, hugging her knees tightly. "I'm so scared..."

She didn't sleep a wink for the rest of the night. She didn't tell her family about the dream, only continued with the second dose of the elixir after her father returned home from the hospital. She tried as hard as she could to embrace the gift Jareth had given her; this visit with her family.

Still, it troubled her that Scribble had not yet returned, and she did not know how Jareth was.

The second night, it was a painfully similar dream, except this time, Jareth was staring at her the whole time, as though he could really see her. Interspersed with images of him being beaten were other images. Him, sitting on the lap of his mother, as she held a book – the book her father had stolen from the in between place that led to her going there to take his place.

Herself, running the Labyrinth as a child, meeting him in the tunnels, him playing with Toby, their dance in the crystal ballroom. The final confrontation where she rejected him.

Him, standing before the council, being sentenced to fifteen years isolation for failure in his duties as Goblin King, as well as feeding fae food to a mortal. She saw a flash of memory when she bit the peach and the curl of Jareth's lips, as he smiled at the memory.

Again, she woke in tears and huddled with her goblin guards until the sun finally rose. She was looking worse and worse, the stress and fear eating her alive. Scribble did not return that day either, and she gave her father the final dose of elixir before bed.

On the third night, she'd wrapped her arms around Jareth and held him as he suffered through the treatment. During that dream, something strange happened.

As soon as she put her arms around him, his breath sighed from him, his body relaxed as if she'd truly embraced him. His lips curled into a soft smile. His head leaned back against hers and she heard him softly whisper her name. And, as if they were walking together in a dream, they stood facing each other, even as she held his battered form.

"Where are we," she asked.

He smiled wryly before answering. "Our physical persons reside in different realms at the moment," he offered. "Besides that, I cannot say. I'm afraid that I haven't been particularly lucid these past few days."

"Jareth," she whispered, running into his arms and embracing him gently.

He sighed in pleasure, his arms going around her as well. "Your father is well?"

"Yes," she agreed. "Thank you."

He was silent for a long moment, simply stroking her back. "I...did not wish for you to see me like this. Beaten. Broken. It will tarnish your memory of me. I'd prefer if you'd had just remembered me as I was before then. Intimidating and seductive."

She gave a soft snort. "Don't talk like you're going to die, Jareth."

"It's only a matter of time, Sarah, and I've not much left."

She straightened, seeing the truth, the pain on his face. "No," she objected. "You can't! Dammit, Jareth, why did you send me away? If I'd stayed-"

"You would have eventually resented me, because your father would have died, and I would have resented myself, because it was within my power to help you save him."

"Then tell me how I can save you now!"

He gave her a warm smile and leaned down to kiss her. "Silly woman, you already have. You gave me something that I thought I would never have, and in doing so, you gave me something that few fae will ever experience. I love you, Sarah. Immortal creatures are typically soulless. Unless when loving and loved by a mortal. The mortal gives them a soul. So believe me, my darling, you've already done worlds."

The dream was fading, and she fought against waking. "Can't we just stay here, together," as she asked, her voice broke. Jareth gently put his hands on her shoulders, putting her slightly away from him.

"No." His voice was firm, unyielding. "Because to remain like this would kill you, and I'll not be responsible for your death."

"Even though I'm responsible for yours?"

He touched her face gently and smiled a bit sadly. "Darling, only I am responsible for my death, and I pray you do not let it weigh upon you. Be happy, Sarah."

She would have declared that she wouldn't be, but he kissed her once more to silence her and fog shrouded them, until finally, her eyes opened, and she felt her face was wet, again, with tears.

Upon awakening from that dream, she decided that enough was enough. Before, she'd believed they were just dreams. However, Jareth had told her before that nothing is ever really what it seemed. Maybe she only wanted to believe that Jareth was safe and sound in the between place, to believe that he was there waiting for her return. However, she was certain now that this wasn't the case, and she couldn't help but wonder if the council hadn't swooped in as soon as she was gone and took him away to kill him. Maybe these dreams were warning her of what was to come. "I have to do _something_." She stood, pulling down some comfortable clothing and dressing herself carefully.

She couldn't wait for Scribble any more. She would find a way to get to him if she had to walk all the way to the 'in between' place. Even if she had to walk until she reached the Underground.

However, just as she was getting ready to head out, she paused at her mirror and looked into it. What she saw, however, wasn't herself and a gasp escaped her lips.

A tiny stone cell; hair so matted with blood, it was no longer blond; bruises covering his body, a testament to how badly he must have suffered after sending her away. "Jareth..." She reached forward, feeling as though even touching the glass would bring them closer together.

The glass...rippled.

Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath, making a firm decision. "Hoggle, I need you," she said calmly.

The dwarf appeared promptly, and to her surprise, he was in the company of Scribble. "Sarah! You're safe!" Dwarf and goblin crawled through her mirror much as they used to. They both began talking to her, so rapidly that she couldn't understand either of them. Finally, she interrupted.

"Where's the Goblin King?"

Both got very quiet and lowered their heads. Neither of them wanted to answer her. She could tell in their body posture. All the other goblins had gone oddly silent as well. Their silence confused and troubled her, and she feared the worst.

Finally, unable to take it, Sarah grabbed her oldest friend and looked directly into his marble blue eyes. There were secrets in those eyes. "Hoggle, please, tell me where Jareth is." _Please, don't let me be too late..._

A sigh. "Now, that's a different question," he muttered. He glanced around. "Jareth's not doin' too well. The old rat has been locked up in the castle dungeon."

"The castle beyond the Goblin City?" She only asked to be certain that they were on the same page. At Hoggle's short nod, she nodded as well. "Give me five minutes to pen a note to my family."

"Wait, Sarah, what do you think you're doin'?"

She lifted her face and turned towards him. She held herself upright, her chin high. "I'm going to do exactly what I would do if anyone else I loved was suffering and I could help them." She stopped, swallowing hard. "Dad's feeling better thanks to that elixir, but Jareth...if we don't help him, he's going to be killed, isn't he?"

Everyone nodded uncomfortably.

"I can't let him die after everything he's done..." she said softly, curling one hand into a fist.

"Sarah, he's not the K-king anymore," Hoggle said softly. "And the one who wants to be king next – a fae called Lesly, who also has the privilege of the title 'High Executioner' – has already wrested control. The city is deserted, save for the fae there for the trial. Looks like the goblins all ran to you..." He lowered his face. "Everyone is afraid this usurper to the throne. And with the crest missing, he's being more ruthless than usual."

Sarah reached up, lightly touching the medallion Jareth had given her. She sat slowly. "Hoggle, I know that you don't like Jareth that much, but...will you help me?"

"I'd rather it were Jareth than Lesly. Jareth's a rat, but Lesly's...almost evil." He looked bashful for a moment. "Besides, we's friends, ain't we?"

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. She pulled out a pen and sheet of paper, writing a note to her parents, then one to her brother. She set them and the gifts from Jareth beside the door to their bedrooms, but she stood in front of Toby's for awhile before finally turning her back. "Goodbye."

Goodbye, Williams family. I don't know if I'm going to survive this, so I have to say goodbye _now_. While I still have a chance. She squeezed her eyes tightly and walked back to her bedroom, where Hoggle and Scribble were waiting.

Gently, she touched the medallion once more. The motion drew Hoggle's attention towards it and his eyes widened. "Sarah..." When she looked at him, he reached forward, lifting it into his small, leathery hand. "This is..."

"I don't know why I have it..."

Suddenly, Hoggle gave her a broad grin. "I think I do." There was some wicked amusement in his eyes. "Come on, Sarah. Let's go break that idiot out of jail."

She gave her friend a warm smile. "Right."


	11. Chapter 11

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 11

Trial and Sentence

Colors whirled in Jareth's vision as his head was jerked up so that he was facing the sky. It had been days since he'd seen the sky. Too often, he was being beaten unconscious and unable to keep track of the days. Tribane hadn't come back since the one time he'd brought water.

He was dehydrated, weak, and half-starved. Due to that and the fact that Lesly enjoyed that iron club a little too much, his body was healing slowly. The hand released his hair and only his pride kept it lifted.

Shocked whispers rippled through the crowd watching. The abuse that he'd sustained was painfully obvious. Even without seeing his face, he knew. It burned with pain from where sweat slipped into the bleeding areas, mixing with the red blood, and slipping down his face and onto his equally battered chest.

"Lesly, what is the meaning of this," called the man that sat front and center. His ageless yet wise face was partially covered by a sand-colored beard. Dark brown eyes peered down beneath brows of dark brown.

Jareth's eyes focused on the man and his breath sighed out of him. The man was old, to the younger fae, he seemed impossibly old. He was also Jareth's paternal grandfather. It was a small comfort that the man was there. After all, the man was high king of the fae, and usually preceded over the trials. The only reason he did not precede over this one was because of the family relation, and so he'd stepped down temporarily.

Still, his own opinion would hold heavy sway over the court.

Lesly cleared his throat in discomfort, obviously having been unaware that this particular fae would be a part of the theater for the trial. "Lord Oberon, the...prisoner fought when we went to bear him back to the Goblin City."

Dark brown eyes turned to steel. The look was punishing, unforgiving, however it did not appear to be aimed at him. It was aimed at Lesly. "I'll remind you, Lord Executioner, that the man on his knees before us is still a king until the courts have said otherwise. I recommend that you treat him as such."

The look of distaste in Lesly's eyes was obvious and Jareth couldn't withhold the snort of amusement. Lesly's black eyes darted towards him, filled with hatred. Jareth's lips curled into a faint smirk and he allowed himself a moment of pride, his head cocking to the side faintly, looking up into those angry orbs, speaking with his own instead of his lips. _That's right, you usurping bastard, I'm still the King. Until you all decide to do away with me, I'm still the King. And my queen..._

He glanced away, shielding his face with his hair. He wouldn't let these fools see the shining hope that he hid within himself._ My queen is coming soon..._

With a snarl, Lesly approached the center of the courtyard. "Jareth, King of the Goblins, you are charged with failing to obtain the mortal known as Sarah Williams, as well as losing the contest of your Labyrinth. You failed to secure either the girl of her brother, and failed to do your duty. You also are charged with feeding food of our realm to a mortal girl who did not belong to you. Having been given a fifteen year long period of time with which to remedy this situation, we find the situation unchanged."

Jareth arched a brow as Lesly turned towards him. The man had a sneer of superiority upon his unattractive face. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said mildly. "Just one question. Were you _always_ this ugly, or is this simply a result of having a bad personality?"

Snorts of amusement from the audience, while Lesly's face darkened with embarrassment and anger. He raised his hand, preparing to strike him. Jareth didn't look away, simply smiling. As if he suddenly remembered who was sitting in the audience – as though he felt the weight of that steely gaze upon his back – the Lord Executioner lowered his hand, and hissed something uncomplimentary under his breath before continuing. "I was speaking of the charges."

With a devil-may-care smile, Jareth shrugged. "I cannot lie before the gallery. The child, Tobias Williams, was wished into my keeping by Sarah Williams nearly fifteen years ago." He paused, his gaze fixing on the distance. "She was a child herself, and I'll admit, I underestimated her because of that. She had a determination that I did not expect in one so young."

"You sound fond for the creature..." Lesly was sneering at him.

Jareth glanced back at his executioner. "I'm in love with her, so that is to be expected," he kept his tone light and amused, even though he saw horror in the eyes of those of the gallery. "She bested me, however, I'd fed her food of our realm before she had succeeded, indeed I thought it quite impossible that a mere mortal girl _would_ succeed." He didn't mention that the girl wasn't a 'mere mortal', or that they'd shared that kiss, binding her to him for the rest what should have been a very short life.

"So you do not deny that you've broken fae law?" Victory on his face.

Jareth inclined his head, arching a brow. "It was always my understanding that those were strong recommendations more than they were laws. Laws are...more ethos. Something from Nature."

"Are you saying that your personal philosophy is more important than the rules that governs our people?" Lesly had the gall to act shocked.

He shrugged. "Take it as you will. You, Lord Executioner, have already drawn your own conclusions. You view me as guilty. If it your sound..._unbiased_ judgment, kill me. However, you should know that killing me will not help you achieve your desires. You will never rule the Goblin Kingdom."

Lesly sputtered and again, lifted a hand.

"Lesly, you forget yourself!" Oberon's voice rose over the noise from the crowd, and slowly, the angry fae turned towards their leader. "Jareth of the Goblin Kingdom is correct. Only those of Royal blood can sit upon a throne, such as the one in the Goblin Kingdom." Those dark brown eyes fixed on Jareth and he felt a bit cowed by the man. He felt as though his soul was being pierced by that dark gaze.

Jareth swallowed hard, unable to discern the look on that ageless face. After a long moment, the man nodded, and then left the gallery. He might have been mistaking, but he thought he'd seen the faintest look of pride on the older fae's face.

"We would know the verdict of the gallery," Lesly grumbled, glaring darkly at Jareth.

A eunuch clad in white spoke. "Those in favor of sparing the life of Jareth, King of the Goblins?"

Few hands were raised. Jareth was unsurprised. He'd told Sarah, after all. His race was an unforgiving lot.

"Those in favor of executing The Goblin King?"

Cheers went up and many of them raised their hands. Jareth gave a faint chuckle. To them, his sin had not been losing. It was falling in love with a mortal and letting it befuddle him enough that he lost. Failing to keep her at the end was just more fuel on the fire. Lesly roughly grabbed him, jerking him to his feet and shoving him ahead. As they walked, the rank breath of the other fae swept under his nose.

"You think that you and that obsolete old fool Oberon will stop me? Once you are dead and out of the way, I'll take care of your mortal bitch, and then the Goblin Kingdom will be mine. Even if I have to accuse Oberon as well. I will succeed, Jareth, ex-goblin king. You have no power any longer."

Jareth snorted, and a faint smirk turned up his lips. If this fool thought that Sarah was going to just lay back and 'be taken care of', he obviously had no idea who he was dealing with...

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah climbed out of her mirror and onto the hill that looked over the Labyrinth. The castle was a small dot on the horizon. Her breath caught at the sight. The sun was tipping over the horizon, and she could hear the sound of horns blowing. A startled gasp escaped her as even the ground seemed to ripple beneath her feet.

"What is _that_?"

Hoggle glanced towards her. "What's what?"

She found she couldn't answer them. She shuddered, chafing her arms with her hands. "N-nothing. Let's hurry..."

Hoggle nodded. "The Labyrinth is different now. It tends to reflect whoever is 'in control', so it's been changing for awhile." He eyed her briefly, then gave a shrug. "We'll have to run it in less than thirteen hours. You can still handle that, right?"

She cast a smile towards her friend and it broadened until her face began to hurt. "Just who do you think you're talking to, my friend? Let's get rid of these idiots who think they can mess with Jareth's Labyrinth."

Hoggle gave a half-snort and then glanced towards Scribble, who'd been very quiet. "She's starting to sound like him."

"Lady Queen kinda...scary..."

"Come on you slow-pokes!" She laughed behind her, waving for them to catch up.

Scribble scrambled after her, but Hoggle hung behind for another long moment. He stood back and just watched the champion of the Labyrinth for several awhile. The last time he'd seen her was when she'd said goodbye to them. She'd given him the barest details, the remaining of which he'd extracted from Jareth when he'd seen the sovereign in the dungeon.

Her time with the Goblin King, much like her trek through the Labyrinth had changed her. Back then it had forced her to grow up, accept the responsibilities of an adult. Forced her to sacrifice something no one so young should have to give up.

Sarah had always thought that Hoggle didn't know the truth about how she felt about the Goblin King, but it was glaringly obvious, even in the tunnels. What had surprised him was that Jareth had seemed as enchanted with Sarah as she was with him. The final proof that he needed was Scribble coming to him, asking where the king was. It confirmed Jareth's story of the scant two months with Sarah Williams in the between place- Jareth's former prison.

In those two months, Sarah had underwent another metamorphosis. From young woman who still slightly resented her adult responsibilities – even if she accepted them – to a mature, strong woman finally taking the last steps towards becoming the queen he knew she'd eventually be.

Hoggle wondered what sort of transformation Jareth had underwent during that time. After all, it was simply impossible that Sarah could change so much and the arrogant king that the dwarf had always known would come out of it exactly as he'd left.

Sarah was nearly down the hill and Hoggle swore at himself for losing himself within his musings. He began hustling down after the goblin and the champion and allowed himself one final thought.

How was she going to react when she found out that she was the Goblin Queen?

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah had quite enough surprises, really, she thought as the three of them ran down one of the path's of the Labyrinth. She'd been unnerved by the tremble the ground had given when she'd set foot upon it. Bad enough when the doors at the entrance sprung open admitting them easily. Worse still when she realized how vastly that the Labyrinth had changed. But this-?

Hoggle panted next to her, out of breath, and Scribble had descended onto all fours in order to scramble along faster. The now white walls of the Labyrinth whizzed past them as they ran, and Sarah chanced a glance behind her.

She didn't remember the cleaners being quite so huge when she was a girl. Had they, like the rest of the Labyrinth changed so much? Huge blades caused sparks to go up as they struck the walls. It seemed a miracle that they didn't scar them. But no, the blades were still sharp, and the walls were still flawless.

"Don't look back!" Hoggle moaned, pumping his little legs faster. "There should be a turn nearby, we'll lose it there!"

She nodded, and in sheer instinct, she grabbed friend and goblin both, dodging to the left, into a deep crevice in the wall. It wasn't an official turn, just a deep space that seemed to form for no reason besides her wanting a place to hide. They held tight against the walls and Sarah flinched as a blade passed frighteningly close to her face as the cleaners passed their hiding space.

Once it was slicing away further down, all three of them relaxed. "I didn't remember them being so frightening..." she admitted.

"Well, not everyone's fears are as small as Jareth's were..." Hoggle muttered, stepping out of the crack and watching the cleaners continue moving.

"Pardon?" Sarah blinked in surprise.

The dwarf looked a bit embarrassed. "Erhm, it's difficult to explain. I said that the Labyrinth manifests differently for each sovereign. It even changes a little as the current leader changes." His face looked uncomfortable. "Hopefully after we save that rat, the cleaners will get smaller again..."

Sarah nodded, a small frown on her lips. "Right..."

They continued wandering and Sarah found herself baffled. All the creatures were still there, unchanged, despite the difference in the character of the maze. The fieries were still playing their morbid game of catch, however they took one look at her and stared as though stunned, hands dropping their heads and eyes staring up at her from the ground, wide and blue.

Brownies hushed their chatter when she approached, only to begin hushed whispers after she passed. The ruse just stared and opened both doors, eyes wide in surprise.

She didn't know what to make of this brighter, different Labyrinth. After a long moment, she walked through one of the doors, knowing that the entrance to the Oubliette should open beneath her.

Except it didn't.

She turned finally, looking at Hoggle, who had an odd expression on his face. "Hoggle, what is going on here? This place is...behaving oddly. Things that should happen are not, everyone stares at me in shock and it's not just because this is my second time here, I know it!"

The dwarf sighed, and looked up at her.

"You said it reflects the sovereign, and that someone rested control from Jareth, but this can't be controlled by a bad person! And the way it's acting..." She stopped, eyes growing wide and her jaw dropped. "The medallion..."

A sigh from the dwarf. "Not just something so you'd remember him after they axed him," Hoggle said quietly. "That idiot placed all of his hopes in you, not knowing if you'd even want to save him. The fae don't use crowns when in power. They all have them, but they don't USE them. They use an object of power, and that is the proof that they rule."

Sarah lifted the shining white metal of the medallion that Jareth had put on her. Tears started to well in her eyes, but she bit them back fiercely. There would be time enough for that later. Swallowing hard, she set one hand over her heart and closed her eyes. "Let's hurry," she said quietly, and then began walking.

She wasn't certain what to think about what Jareth had done, but she loved him and she'd hold her own judgment until she saw him once again. Until then, she was going to have to come to terms with the knowledge that was creeping in on her.

That shining medallion, a symbol of station. Placed around her neck as she lay sleeping in his own bed. Trembling, she stroked the medallion, glancing down at it once again. She gave a faint nod and headed on her way once again.

They'd been traveling for about three hours when finally they all settled down for a quick rest, as well as some food. Sarah lay down to try to grab a brief nap, as Hoggle had. However, after a few minutes, it became painfully obvious that there would be no such rest. The sun was painfully bright, and even if it was pitch black, she knew that the second that she closed her eyes, she'd see images of Jareth being tortured.

Scribble curled close to her head, nibbling on a cheese sandwich that Hoggle had provided. His large eyes were looking at her, bright with worry. "Lady should rest."

"I can't, Scribble." She sighed as she spoke, eyes falling on the medallion once again.

"Why's not? Lady tired. Plain as day." He frowned slightly. "Lady not been sleeping very well, she's had nightmares..."

She swallowed hard. "Yes," she agreed. "I'm afraid. Every time I fall asleep I see Jareth, and he's in pain. I can't keep seeing that, it breaks my heart..."

Scribble nodded slightly. "Saw...Scribble saw kinga in dungeon. Lesly is High Execu...tioner." Obviously, that was a difficult word for him. "Someone's been giving him water, trying to keep him strong. Kinga...in bad shape."

Sarah trembled, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'll save him, Scribble. I don't know how I'll do it, but I'm going to save Jareth...trust me."

Scribble looked mournfully down at her, nodding. "I know, Lady. Scribble trust Lady."

They only rested for half an hour before they were on their feet once again. Sarah felt as though there were a magnet leading her, guiding her through the Labyrinth, as if the maze itself were telling here where to go.

However, after another hour, she noticed a strange sensation in her stomach. Like heartburn, but not. It was a dull, burning sensation, and finally she took one step and pain screamed through her body as if she were being savagely beaten.

A gasping cry escaped her and she fell to her knees, eyes going wide. She scarcely heard her companions call out to her. She hugged herself and bent forward, the pain causing her to heave, emptying her stomach on the ground. The pain surged again and again, finally quieting a bit.

When she came back to herself, she saw Hoggle and Scribble leaning over her and realized that she was now on her back, and they were looking upon her in concern. "You okay, Sarah? You looked like you were having some kinda fit!"

Sarah shook her head, forcing herself to her feet. Her body still throbbed. "How long was I out of it?"

"Few minutes." Hoggle acknowledged. "What's wrong?"

She, again, shook her head, starting to walk. "We have to hurry."

Sensing her internal disquiet, they hurried after her. "Sarah!" Hoggle cried, frustrated, and showing it upon his leathery face.

She stopped, spinning towards him. "Jareth's in pain. Don't ask how I know. I just do. I...felt it as if it were being inflicted on me, not him. I think I've been feeling it a little for awhile now. It's just...He was just tortured."

Hoggles face turned grim. Then he gave a short nod. "Then let's hurry."

Funny how neither of them questioned her. Funny how they didn't think that she was crazy. She was beginning to wonder if she was. Still, they picked up the pace, moving with a greater speed towards their destination: the dungeons beneath the Castle Beyond the Goblin City.


	12. Chapter 12

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 12

Reunion

To be blunt, Sarah was exhausted. Her body ached, her head was throbbing in time with the beat of her heart. Her breath came as pants, and she was chilled from the sweat soaking her clothing.

All in all, however, they'd done well on time. In fact, they'd even beat her last time. Probably because men seeking attention weren't distracting her or sending her drugged peaches that made her forget everything.

She gave a faint smile at the thought, trying to ignore the sick feeling deep in her gut. The pain and nausea had been growing stronger with every step and at this point they were damn near unbearable. She hoped that meant that they were close.

Again, a particular vicious surge of pain caused her to bowl over and heave up the last food she'd been able to consume. Hoggle glanced around and drug her and Scribble through a door she'd have never known was there if she wasn't currently standing behind it. "Little Lady, you look like a wreck."

"Thanks friend." She acknowledged, giving him a half-glare. "This is really how I wanted to see Jareth again – looking like I haven't slept in four days, probably smell like I haven't bathed in that long, and my mouth tastes like puke."

"Would you like to take an hour to freshen up," Hoggle quipped, smirking at her.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Let's get Jareth." She paused. "How...should we do this?"

"The way I figure, you being here completely negates the trial anyways. They'll have found him guilty of failing to secure you, but that medallion says that you're the rightful ruler of the Labyrinth, and so they'll likely defer to you." The dwarf continued, now poking along a low wall outside the city. "I'm just hoping that Lesly left us one former monarch mostly whole..."

He said it quietly enough that Sarah could pretend that she hadn't heard him. "Where does this go?"

"Beneath the Goblin City. Lesly doesn't know it exists, but its how I've been moving in and out, for the past few weeks. Lesly's been moving closer for awhile now, and the goblins evacuated pretty quickly after he settled in the castle." His hand seemed to disappear among the white stones, and he huffed, tugging a door open. "Get in, and quick. The guards'll pass here in about two minutes."

They scrambled into the small doorway, and into the dark hallway beyond. It was pulled shut, just as the sounds of boots passed by. They all relaxed, and started moving into the tunnels beneath the city. "This is incredible...what is this place?"

"Secret passage. The castle and city are filled with them. Didn't come this way last time, because...well..." he looked a bit guilty.

"Because you'd fed me a poisoned peach and ran away after?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. He just waved a hand at her. She smiled. "I forgave you for that already. I know you didn't want to do it."

Scribble shrugged. "Didn't matter he wanted or not. Kinga ordered. He obey. That's the way it works here."

"Worked," Sarah said quietly. "As you pointed out, Jareth's not the King anymore..."

"And I don't figure that he's going ta be needin' those peaches anymore, either," Hoggle smirked at her, and hurried down the hallway. They rounded a corner, and they all stopped abruptly, finding a guard sitting down there asleep.

And one of the cells was open. Quietly, they crept forward, hearing soft swearing within. "Dammit, Jareth, swallow the damn water," hissed the man leaning over Jareth.

Sarah straightened and moved forward. She was the queen here, she had to act like it. "Let him go," Sarah snarled. Her voice surprised her. She didn't sound as she normally did when angry. To her, the voice that left her was barely human. However, she quickly schooled her face when the man turned towards her.

Not the darkly-clad man from her dreams. This man had pale hair and eyes and was dressed in clothes that labeled him either a clergyman of some sort or a healer. "Who are you?" The man asked, taking a stance that spoke of defense, rather than harm.

Sarah looked at him, pondering him. Defensive, as if he were helping the broken man in the cell. "This is not the place to discuss this. I'm...a friend of Jareth's. I came to help in any way I could, but we need to get him out of here."

"We don't have much time," Hoggle whispered sharply from the door. "When Lesly comes back down here, he'll see that Jareth's gone and we need him on his feet before then."

The man was torn, obviously. Without a word, he stood, easily lifting Jareth's body. "I know a place. But if you do one thing to betray this man, I'll kill you where you stand."

She smiled, leaning towards him. "And I'll do the same if you do."

Her companions were surprised, but they didn't say anything in regards to her threat. The pale-haired man nodded shortly and left the room, carrying Jareth at a quick pace past the guard and through several more, longer tunnels. None of them spoke as they moved, and Sarah kept her eyes on Jareth's still face.

It was almost gray, except the parts which were crusted with dried blood. His hair, the tangled, matted mess, had no inch of blond peeking through. She refused to cry – as Scribble had said, it wasn't very queenly. To be honest, she didn't give a damn about being queenly at the moment. She just wanted Jareth to be alright.

Finally, they reached a staircase, which led them up onto the ground level of the Goblin City. They moved through the slowly darkening streets swiftly, and finally ducked into a small house at the end of a long alley. Once within, the man set Jareth on a long fainting couch. It frightened Sarah how small, how...mortal Jareth looked just then.

The man moved to another room, and spoke to someone. "Soli, our bed is needed for Lord Jareth."

"What? Tribane, what have you done?" The other voice was soft, feminine.

"Worry not," he said quietly, and there was a long moment of silence. "Take the children and go to your sister's house. Go now. Do not ask any more questions."

A petite woman with flame-red hair left, and swept into another room, lifting two sleeping toddlers from their beds and into an odd double stroller. Then, the woman was out the door, without another question.

When she was gone, Sarah looked at the man again. He'd shrugged out of the robe he'd been wearing and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Again, he lifted Jareth as though he weighed nothing, moving him into the large bedroom. He set him down with a startling amount of care. Beside the bed was a bowl of steaming water.

"I've heard of you," Hoggle said evenly. "You were Jareth's childhood friend. The _only_ one of your kind he called a friend."

Tribane said nothing for a long time. "He's also the god-father of my children." Which meant that he considered Jareth a good friend as well. He soaked a cloth in water, setting it upon Jareth's face.

Without a word, Sarah took up another cloth, soaking it and beginning to gently tend to the man she loved. "I've...never seen him like this," Sarah admitted. "I'd seen the scars, but I..."

Tribane looked up at her. "You look familiar. Are you from the courts?"

She stiffened. That was right, she'd never introduced herself. "No. I'm not from the courts. I'm originally from the mortal realm." She lifted her face and saw that he'd dropped the cloth in shock. "My name is Sarah Williams, and...I'm the reason he's in this situation." Tears wet her eyes as she spoke the admittance. She saw recognition flash through his gaze before his expression became closed. "Almost fifteen years ago, I wished away my baby brother, and Jareth took him. I fought to get him back, and..."

"You left with the boy," Tribane finished, his lips pulled into a frown. "Abandoned him, here to face the mercy of the fae council-"

Scribble, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke. "Not lady's fault!"

Sarah blinked in surprise, turning to look at the small goblin, who had an obstinate look on his face.

"Lady work hard, fight hard. Lady earn the right to her brother, and Kinga see that. Kinga...loved lady," tears filled those big eyes as he spoke. "Kinga just wanted Lady happy..."

"Oh, Scribble," she whispered, opening her arms and embracing the goblin. Hoggle looked uncomfortable and glanced away.

"What...is that god forsaken racket...?"

The voice was barely recognizable as the voice of the once-King of the Goblins. However, Sarah's head jerked towards him, and his eyes were the barest slits, looking up. She was almost certain he couldn't really see her, as unfocussed as his eyes were. Still, joy surged through her followed swiftly by anger.

"Jareth, if you do anything stupidly selfless again, I'll kick you so hard where it hurts, you'll be singing soprano for the rest of your life," she snarled, then – heedless of the others in the room – she leaned down and kissed him on the mouth.

Scribble blushed, Tribane respectfully averted his gaze, and Hoggle stared, mute in shock.

Jareth, however, responded instantly, his lips coming alive as if she were breathing his life force back into him. After a long moment, his hands came up and touched her hair. When she drew back, she thought his eyes were just a little more focused. "Precious," he breathed softly, pleasure radiating from him. He was glowing again.

"Yes," she whispered, more a sob than a word.

Slowly, Jareth cast his gaze at the others in the room. He smirked at Hoggle, "Hello, Hogspit, found her well enough, did you?"

"Only because Scribble came scrambling through the portal four days ago," the dwarf grumbled. "And you told me when she'd be coming."

"How'd you know when I'd be coming?" Sarah frowned faintly down at him.

He smiled up at her, his face still glowing just a bit. "Because, I told you three drops over three days. You're too stubborn to let someone you care for die, so I knew you'd stay all three days and I was just as certain that after you'd try to come here." He focused on Scribble next and his lips broadened into a wider grin. "Young one, you've done quite well."

Scribble beamed and looked like he wanted to scramble up onto the bed and cuddle the king, which made Jareth get a rather wary expression. Finally, those mismatched eyes found the last person in the room. "Tribane, you know Lesly's going to be after your neck if he finds out you broke me out of jail."

Tribane's expression, however, was not jovial. "Jareth, you're dying."

"Am I?" She wasn't sure how, but Jareth managed to sound unconcerned, despite the almost panicked look that filled his eyes. Sarah was pretty sure that she and Tribane were the only ones who saw it.

"I think that Lesly was poisoning you. The iron club, iron bars on the cell, iron restraints. He probably spread it over your food as well..."

Sarah winced. "Is there nothing that can be done?" She wasn't certain how she managed to keep her voice steady. Jareth's eyes met with hers and he nodded a bit. She leaned over, putting her lips near his ear.

"Alone," he breathed softly.

She stood, biting her lip. _Stand up, Sarah. Step up to the line._ "Could Jareth and I have a moment alone? Please?"

"I'd prefer to stay," Tribane said, but Jareth touched his arm, shaking his head. Pale eyes widened at whatever he saw written on Jareth's face. "Five minutes, after that, I'm coming back in." Then, the fae ushered Hoggle and Scribble from the room, ignoring their objections.

Once they were gone, Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, continuing to sponge off Jareth's face. "We're a pair, aren't we...we both look half-dead..."

"You look lovely, and I'll not hear another word about it," he said softly, reaching up to stop her. "Sarah-"

She put her hands over his mouth. "I still have some of that elixir you gave me...if it helped daddy, it will help you, too, right?"

He smiled a bit, pulling her hands away. "Darling, the concentration I gave you would have little effect. That was a special mix that is for humans, not fae. A fae concentration is four or five times more potent." He shook his head. "No, precious, that can't help me. But you can."

She blinked back tears. "What do I have to do?"

He searched her eyes for a long time. For the first time since she'd met him, she noticed he looked uncertain, maybe even uncomfortable. "Marry me, Sarah," he said, finally. "You have to marry me. That would nullify the courts ruling, and as a result, renew my connection with the Labyrinth, returning my strength and ability to heal."

She blinked in surprise, her lips parting innocently. Then, she smiled at him. "What are you so nervous about, you idiot? I've loved you for the past fifteen years, and these past weeks have only made that stronger." She cupped his face, kissing him warmly. "Yes, I'll marry you. Right here, right now."

He nodded. "We don't have much time. Call the other's back in. Tribane should have the training to perform the ceremony..."

Sarah quickly went to the door, calling them back in. She fixed Jareth's friend with a fierce look. "You're going to marry us. Now."

Everyone stared at the pair in shock. Tribane was the first to find his voice. "I didn't even think that would work. However, I suppose that it would rescind the courts decision by proxy. Unfortunately, a prisoner cannot be married unless it is by order of the ruling monarch, and no one here has the authority to grant permission-"

She wrenched the medallion over her head, holding it by the long, glittering silver chain. "I grant permission under the authority of the Queen of the Goblins." She was shaking, she could tell by the way the medallion danced in the air, but when she looked back at Jareth, he was smiling at her. "You must hurry, if his kingdom is restored to him, he can heal. Please, Tribane..."

Finally, Tribane nodded, and she sat beside Jareth on the bed, helping him sit up. Silently, she wrapped her hand around Jareth's feeling the heat from his skin. "I'm a little under dressed for a wedding," she mumbled.

"We match," he replied back. "I'll make it up to you later."

She smiled, lifting her face to the others. "Let's start."

Tribane was silent for a moment. "Lady Sarah, Queen of the Goblins, do you take this man as your husband, for the rest of your life?"

"Yes," Sarah answered softly.

He glanced at Jareth. "Lord Jareth, Grandson of High King Oberon, Son of Queen Ainge, do you take this woman as your wife and queen for the rest of your life?"

"I'll take her forever," he answered, looking at Sarah. Sarah felt heat rise to her cheeks and Jareth's hand beneath her chin kept her from lowering her face.

"We can save the formal vows for another time, by the power granted to me by our sovereign, The Goblin Queen, I pronounce you husband and wife." He waved his hand. "You may kiss your bride."

Kiss her, Jareth did, and then some. His hands had just found the edges of her shirt when a throat cleared, reminding them of the others in the room and Jareth cleared his throat as well, easing back. He looked up at Sarah, beaten, exhausted, but she still found him beautiful. Slowly, she lifted the medallion. "With our promise, I give you back your powers." She set it around his neck, lifting her eyes to look at him again. "I only ask that you treat me kindly," she said softly.

His eyes widened in surprise and Sarah leaned forward, putting her lips beside his ear. "You've always had power over me, Jareth. In ways I can't even begin to explain."

He was glowing again, like a star gone to ground. It sent Tribane and the others scrambling around the house, closing shutters, hoping to hide the shining light. Slowly, Sarah caught the lobe of his ear between her teeth and gave it a soft suck, which made the man beneath her shudder faintly.

"I love you."

Suddenly, they weren't in that small room in Tribane's home. In less than a thought, they were back at the between place, standing in his large bathroom. The place was silent, and the Goblin King was shining. "Sarah, Sarah, you precious thing," he swept her into his arms and spun her around. When he set her down, they both staggered a bit, both dizzy from the movement. "Ah, I forgot I'm still not fully recovered." He reached towards the medallion on his chest, touching it as if he was enjoying the weight of it.

Once more, it was large, black bone, with a gold center medallion, and strung on a leather thong. It rested against his chest as if it were meant to be there, and indeed, it was. Sarah lightly caressed it and smiled at him.

Suddenly the shower kicked on and Jareth's hands were working down the tiny buttons of her shirt. "While tradition to immediately embark in post-wedding adventures, I believe that we could both use a bath," Jareth said, sliding the shirt off of her.

She shivered, stepping towards him and wrapping her arms around him. His body was warm, she could feel his heart beating with renewed vigor, not the weak patter of the ill. Their hands found one another's pants and they scrambled out of the fabric, kicking it away.

Together, they stepped under the spray, and Sarah found and kissed every wound and scar she could easily reach. He trembled under the ministrations, and after a moment, pulled her tightly against him. He held her oddly, keeping the lower part of him far away from her, and putting his weight against her chest. She gently caressed his soft hair, watching the water wash away the red.

She reached and grabbed a bottle of liquid soap, pouring it into her hands, before gently massaging it into his hair. The goblin's king moaned softly, and his hands tightened on her hips as she worked. He lightly bit her shoulder when she brushed along his neck and down his chest. The water rinsed away the blood, leaving him battered, but clean. She took care when she slid her soapy hands over his raw wrists. She could still see the scars from his last imprisonment and she wanted to cry, but there was no reason.

They were together, and he was safe, so there was no need to cry. She washed down his abdomen and back, over his firm buttocks and then went to her knees as she began to wash his legs. She found herself face to face with another part of him and stared, a little intimidated and awed at the same time. She looked up at his face and saw love and desire in equal parts.

At least that explained his odd way of leaning against her, she thought, amused that he'd tried to hide his arousal from her. A wicked grin touched her lips and Jareth looked...maybe just a little nervous. Her hands still soapy, she gripped him firmly and the monarchs knee's buckled.

She blinked in surprise as he went to his knees, his hands on her arms, his head on her shoulder. "I knew, yet..." he breathed, his voice hoarse. "Darling, I'm not sure you realize how long it's been for me."

"I can guess, and I'll bet it's been longer for me," she said softly, turning her face and gently kissing his temple. "I want this, want you." He lifted his face, looking into her eyes and she touched the corners, where they swept up and disappeared beneath his bangs. "My beloved nightmare, my beautiful beast," she mused softly, leaning forward and gently kissing him.

He sighed softly, his arms going tight around her. He was pressed between her legs and the slight contact sent a startling wave of pleasure through her. She gasped softly, digging her nails into his shoulders. He moaned, and his tongue swept into her mouth, tracing the line of her teeth. He gave a gentle thrust and she almost came apart.

"What's..." she half-asked, gasping against his lips.

He shuddered softly. "Sarah, that was a dream. A wonderful dream, but it was still a dream. In reality, matters of the flesh are rarely so tidy..." He pulled back. "And I'm fae. Kissing me has bound you to me for the rest of your life. However, sex with a fae is different. It will bind you to me for a lot long than forever. Knowing that, do you still wish to continue?"

She answered him by leaning forward and taking his mouth with hers. She twined her arms around him, pressing her breasts against his chest. He moaned and his hand slipped between them, between her legs, toying with her. The caress sent shivers racing through her body and she arched, crying out. His lips found her neck and that somehow enhanced what his hand below her was doing. She sputtered, gasped and came, from the barest flicks of his fingers against her.

Dear god, if being felt up was that good, she might just die from the rest.

Jareth stood, offering her a hand and she stared up at him, her jaw hanging slightly. She wanted him to feel that good. She lunged forward, putting her mouth on him before he could stop her or ask a single question.

He sputtered as well, and it came as some relief that she wasn't the only one affected by this temporary insanity. "Sarah-" he gasped, followed by something else, but she didn't recognize the words.

He felt good in her mouth; hot, hard. The sounds he was making were like music on her ears, and she wanted to hear more. His reactions were sweet, desperate little moans and he scratched his nails against the shower wall as she continued to torture him.

"Sarah-" There was a warning in his voice this time, but it was a warning just moments too late. She dove down and he began to pour into her mouth, and she swallowed, drinking the evidence of his need for her. Finally, he slipped to the stall floor and gathered her against his chest, not speaking, just holding her. His breaths were labored, as if he'd run a great distance.

Or just gotten seduced halfway breathless.

After awhile, he grabbed the soap and lathered up his own hands, starting to slide them over her body. He payed more attention than was strictly necessary to her breasts and backside, gripping and squeezing them, before he moved on. Once she was lathered up completely, he stood, and pulled her to her feet, and into the warm spray.

Obviously, bathing her had revitalized the Goblin King quite a bit, because before the last suds washed down the drain, his hand was between her legs once more toying with her. Each touch was electric, and she reached back, grabbing a fistful of his hair. "Jareth," she begged softly, feeling his other hand reach towards her breast, cupping it and teasing the nipple. His lips found her neck and she whimpered. It was wonderful, maddening, being touched like that by him. Finally, she wrenched his hands away from her and turned on him, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair and kissing him, hoping to get her point across.

The water shut off and Jareth's hands lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and continued kissing him, her arms slipping around his neck as he half-walked, half-staggered into his bedroom, before spilling her among the golden sheets. She sat upright, staring in surprise as he crawled up onto the bed with her. Like a predator, he was graceful, almost feline in his movements and she shivered faintly in anticipation.

His lips came closer to her ear when he stopped above her. "I let you have your wicked way with me during that dream. So this time, you're not getting one ounce of control." His hands caught her wrists, pinning her to the bed, and when he pulled back, she couldn't move. She stared up at him and she shuddered in fear combined with arousal.

Smirking darkly, he slipped that hand back down her, teasing her folds as his lips went to her breast. His teeth gently worried her flesh, tongue soothing the hurts that he made. All the while, those mischievous fingers toyed with her, until they finally slipped inside and she cried out, thrusting more of her breast into Jareth's waiting mouth. He pulled back, chuckling darkly. "So sensitive, my dear," he teased lightly. "So, you think it has been longer for you than me?"

She nodded and he smiled darkly. "Oh do tell, my dear..."

She yelped when he buried two fingers all the way inside her. Her legs trembled and she gasped her head going back. "I've...never..."

He stilled, waiting until she calmed enough to look at him once more. "Never?"

She shook her head. "Never."

"Then we've a lot of ground to cover, and only a few short hours to do so in," he teased, a wicked grin on his face. Shock filled her, but she didn't have long to dwell on it, because he shifted, and kissed the lips between her legs with a passion that had her gasping for air.

It felt like no time at all; it felt like forever before he climbed back over her trembling body and settled between her legs. His hands lifted her slightly and she forced her eyes open to look at him as he set himself against her. Slowly, he pushed into her, stretching her, and her lips parted in a soundless cry as his hips finally came to rest against her own.

Her eyes had closed, and she pressed her body up against his own as tightly as she could. "Mine," he whispered against her ear.

She opened her eyes, looking up at him, seeing the uncertainty there, seeing that he was waiting for an answer, any answer. "For the rest of time," she whispered back, giving him a gentle smile that lied regarding how desperate she was for them to continue. "Enough talk," she whispered finally, gripping his hair and pulling him down for another long, drawn out kiss.

He moaned softly in appreciation. His arms slipped under her legs, lifting her hips off the mattress and he made the most of the position, using them to pull her against him, as he moved against her, his eyes closed, his face tight with need or fear or something, but it was a beautiful expression to Sarah.

She couldn't lie, however that she was starting to want to throttle him. Then he shifted again and thrust and hit a point inside of her that was on just the edge of being too much and she sobbed out his name, her head digging back into the mattress.

"Yes," he promised, leaning forward, pressing sloppy kisses along the length of her neck before he worried his teeth into her shoulder.

The sharp dig of his teeth were what finally threw her over the edge. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him tightly as she thrashed, held by those phantom restraints, grinding herself against Jareth. Tears pierced her eyes as she came, his name slipping from between her lips at the intensity of it. It would have faded, but Jareth thrust again, and the pleasure spiked, once, then twice, until finally he swore with heartfelt intensity, somewhere between a compliment and a curse against her ear. He stopped, held still, his face twisted in pleasure so sharp it looked like pain to her.

Then, he lowered himself on shaking limbs onto her. His face found the place where her neck met his shoulder and he pressed it there. "Sarah," he breathed softly against her skin, his lips a faint tickle on her neck. "My heart..."

She found herself able to move her arms again and slowly wrapped them around the monarch. "My king," she whispered back, stroking the scarred flesh there. "What a path we took to get here."

He chuckled roughly. "Would you have changed anything?"

She considered that for a long moment. "Well, I didn't really appreciate being dropped home without so much as a word," she muttered, frowning a bit. "I really should kick your skinny fae butt for that..."

"Skinny?" He propped himself up, amused. "How rude. Couldn't you at least say 'slender' or 'well-formed'. Oh, or how about lovely?"

She gave him a half-hearted glare. "Trust me, Jareth, when I woke up and found myself in my bedroom at my family's home, I wasn't too concerned with being rude. I was more interested in wrapping my hands around your neck and choking you."

"And yet, despite that, you saved it. My neck, my ass and everything else," just saying that made him glow a little, and he was grinning like an idiot.

She scowled faintly. "Well, for some reason I can't quite fathom, I seem to be in love with you." His response to that was an even larger grin and the expression was quite infectious. She reached up, gently touching the medallion. "I was scared, Jareth. I was afraid I wasn't going to make it to you in time. That you'd die and I'd never see you again. I didn't want that. But you're right, I would have eventually felt bad for not going to dad when I had a chance. I'm not letting you off the hook for not giving me a choice in the matter, but...Thank you."

He stroked her hair away from her face and smiled. "Darling, believe me when I say that you've paid me back in spades. However, from the look of you, you're exhausted, and we both need rest to face what comes next."

She agreed with that. "Could you magic them a note so they don't worry...Hoggle's sort of prone to it."

He chuckled softly and he made a vague gesture. "Consider it done, precious." He moved off of her, pulling her close against his side and she curled around him, resting her head against his heart as he pulled the blankets over them.

"What's next," she mumbled softly, sleep already dragging her into its grip.

His lips pressed softly against the top of her head. "Tomorrow, precious, we go and take power back from that idiot who saw fit to try to steal a kingdom from its rightful ruler." She didn't hear him, because she was already asleep.

Jareth looked down at her, his lips still smiling faintly. "Not a con, but an honest effort, rewarded in kind," he said softly, hugging her a bit more tightly. She continued sleeping on and he lifted the medallion from over his head and settled it over Sarah's once again. "I'm healed, it's time to return this to its rightful place," he murmured, watching the medallion undergo its transformation into the beautiful mythrill that Sarah's touch made it.

He smiled at his prize, at the woman who loved him, and then finally let sleep pull him into its grasp.


	13. Chapter 13

Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 13

All's Well that Ends...

Sarah woke alone in the bed, with sunlight streaming through the open window. Fear came first, and she left the bed quickly, pausing only to grab the long, black silk dressing robe that was draped over its foot. She put it on as she moved, checking first the bathroom before heading into the hallway.

Her feet led her unerringly through the manor, finally stopping before her old rooms, and she found the door cracked open. She pushed it open and found Jareth pondering her wardrobe, one hand crossed in front of him, the other tapping the side of his nose in consideration.

Relief was so palpable that she moved before she even realized that she had the desire. She threw her arms around his waist and held on tightly, pressing her face into his back. "Jareth," she breathed softly, inhaling his scent and closing her eyes. "Don't scare me like that again."

He paused in his musings, turning in her tight hold and setting his own arms around her. "I frightened you?"

She nodded against his chest. "I woke up and you were gone. Just like last time..."

He tightened his own embrace and sighed. "Forgive me, precious. There are many things that must be done and little time to accomplish them in. Today I am to be tried, and if we're to turn this situation against the one who would steal your kingdom, we must work quickly." He was quiet for a moment. "And I did not realize that waking alone would worry you so."

She nodded, accepting his answer. Finally, reassured that he was here and whole, she pulled back. "What are you doing in here?"

"Considering your wardrobe," he stated, as if that weren't obvious. "Since we are going before the courts, you must look your best." He riffled through the closet a bit, and then came out with something that was rich, emerald green, accented with creamy white lace on the bodice. "I think this will do nicely..."

Sarah accepted the dress from him. "We're going before the courts?"

"I suppose it's better to say before the council." He was smiling quite like a fool right then, his eyes with a wild and dangerous look within them. "The timing, everything, has to be just right. The fae are unfortunately quite weak for entrances with the right timing."

"And you love to make them," Sarah gave him a half-grin, remembering the night so many years ago when he'd entered on a crack of thunder and flash of lightening. With a splash of glitter, of course.

He flashed her a wicked grin. He leaned towards her and his voice took on a husky tone. "Well, precious, you know better than most that I prefer to time all of my...entrances to my best advantage..."

She flushed at the insinuation, but she met his gaze without faltering, and this seemed to please him, because he leaned down and captured her lips, spending the next several minutes – or was it hours or years – getting better acquainted with the far corners of her mouth.

She moaned softly, swayed towards him, wrapping an arm lazily around his neck. She imagined that the picture they made was like the cover of a romance novel and she almost sputtered out a laugh. Here she was, dressed only in her fae lover's robe and he was wearing a billowy black shirt and blisteringly tight black leather pants.

He must have tasted her amusement, because he pulled back, looking down at her with a raised brow. "Laughter isn't quite what I was aiming for..."

She bit her lip, smiling guiltily. "And what were you aiming for?"

His eyes ran over her from head to toe and she felt as though his hands had whispered across her as they did, an echo of the night before. Her knees almost gave out and she gasped, gripping his arms to remain upright. She barely saw his lips curl into a smirk.

"That's closer," he murmured, then took the dress from her hands, laying it upon the bed. "It is quite unfortunate that we have so little time to accomplish these goals of ours. And there will be even less time once this ridiculous situation is over. Still, I insist on that several day sabbatical I mentioned before."

She lifted her gaze a bit shyly, and met his gaze with as much desire as was evident in his own. "How much time do we have?"

He arched a brow. "Well, about two hours total..."

She cast him a wicked grin and was pleased when he looked surprised by it. "Hasn't his highness ever heard of a quickie?"

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Lesly paced the ground in anger and frustration. The court had gathered long ago and he'd sent someone to the dungeon to collect the former king, however the person hadn't returned and an alarm had gone up around the city.

That could only mean that somehow that bastard had managed to escape.

Those in the courts were starting to squirm, looking agitated. Where was the prisoner? His magic powers had been bound by them, when they removed him from the throne, and only a sovereign could return them. And none of them were feeling particularly generous.

So how was it possible that Jareth, former king of the goblins, could have escaped?

More and more people filed into the gallery, expecting to see the death of a failure king- a king who couldn't even entrap a measly mortal girl. The execution was supposed to take place in ten minutes, so where the hell _was_ he?

Suddenly, as if they magically appeared, goblins began pouring into the center ring, laughing and dancing, showing joy where there should have been sorrow. After all, they had never wanted Jareth to be removed from his throne. They'd fought the appointment of a fae selected king. They demanded that Jareth continue to be their by proxy ruler. But finally conceded to have a person they chose temporarily ruling the kingdom.

They'd chosen Sir Didymus, who was the most loyal and most honorable in the kingdom to hold the throne, to make sure the desires of their king were carried on. When Jareth had been locked away, they'd vacated the Goblin Kingdom, everyone of them disappearing from the Underground to who knew where.

At every opportunity, these goblins had stood in his way. Lesly bared his teeth and snarled, a sound that should have commanded silence, however, the happy dancing continued. The gallery was as shocked by the display as he, whispering to one another, wondering what had happened, what had changed in these past hours to cause them all to repopulate the Goblin Kingdom.

The answer walked from the same dark entry that the goblins had came from. Just as the clock struck at high noon, a man with starlit hair dressed in brown and black leather stepped from the arch, moving towards the platform in the center. His lips were turned into a smirk, and his face was clean of bruises. He glowed with an aura of power that seemed impossible.

"Your powers were stripped from you by the courts!" Lesly screamed the obvious, his brain rebelling against the possibility that he had somehow regained them.

"So they were," he agreed, dusting off his leather long coat as he moved towards the large stone riser where executions were usually held. "And they've been returned to me as well."

"That isn't possible! No one would go against the ruling of the courts!"

Oberon sat staring down at them, his eyes interested, and curious. It was obvious that he wanted to know how Jareth had regained power, especially since at the trial only yesterday, he'd been beaten, broken, had barely been coherent.

Lesly screamed in anger. "Powers or not, you've been sentenced to death! Kneel and I will finish the task!"

"You will not!"

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The feminine voice was filled with rage, and barely recognizable, even to Jareth, who thought he'd heard her at her angriest. Silence went throughout the gallery as the woman stepped forward and he had to admire the way the dress fit her as much as he admired the slight flush she wore from exertion. It appeared that she still hadn't recovered from the challenge she'd placed before him two hours ago.

He smirked in amusement, and then bowed low, going as far as to drop to his knee. "My Lady," he said his voice filled with laughter.

"Rise, Jareth, Lord of the Labyrinth," Sarah said, her voice still thundering. Her back was straight, her hands rested lightly against the banister. "And tell them how your powers were returned to you."

He gave his precious thing a broad smile as he stood and he glanced around. "At my queen's command," he agreed. "You see, Lesly, five days ago, when Sarah Williams proclaimed that she loved me, just before I sent her home, I bestowed a gift upon her." He gestured up at her, and specifically at the medallion around her neck. "I took the medallion which had been mine since my mother passed on, and I put it 'round her neck. I named her my successor to the throne, and in that moment, I retied. You see, there hasn't been a 'Goblin King' in five days."

Everyone gasped, looking towards the woman who stood there, at the front of the balcony, as proud as any of them, an arrogant expression on her face. Everyone, anyways, except the goblins. They cheered and laughed, dancing once again.

"You did your very best to weaken and kill me, Lesly. Iron poisoning is fatal, and even if I were to somehow get out of the prison, I was still condemned to die. If not for me gifting her with my kingdom. As you well know, my powers were taken because I rejected Lady Olivia of the High courts, and they would not be restored until I took a sovereign as a wife. Well, after my dear Sarah helped spring me out of jail, I was married, and Sarah temporarily restored my kingdom, my powers, and as a result, my life."

He smiled broadly up at the woman above him whose face was softening with affection. "I have broken every rule you've set before me save two, because this woman cannot be held within a box that has rules." He extended his hand to her and watched as Sarah hitched her skirts, throwing her leg over the banister.

She stood on the other side, unprotected, high above the open gallery and he watched as she jumped towards him, her arms out, trusting him to catch her. Catch her he did, and surrounded by goblins, The Queen of the Goblins was set down on her feet and turned towards the gallery. His arms went around her, one resting over her heart, between her breasts, the other around her stomach as he held her and smiled and smiled up at the council, quite unable to stop.

Sarah rested her hands over his own and turned, kissing him on his temple. When she raised her gaze, she fixed the council with an icy stare. "It is my understanding that the ruling monarch of a kingdom can stop an execution." Her eyes turned towards Lesly, who was sputtering, moving towards them, his hands curled in threatening claws. "Well, the Queen of the Labyrinth finds Jareth innocent. You see, what no one knew was that the girl had fallen in love with the king, and that gave him more power than even he knew. I loved him fifteen years ago, when I first wished away my brother. He haunted me every year since."

Lesly stopped, staring at her with hate. "You fake!"

"Through dangers untold," Sarah said softly, stepping away from her husband, towards the High Executioner. "And hardships unnumbered, I fought my way to Jareth's side, the man who you tried to take from me." Her eyes and voice were like ice, and the ground trembled in answer to its queen's anger. "For my will is as strong as his, and my kingdom as great...You have no power over us, Lesly. And as my first act as Goblin Queen, I strip you of your power as the fae court's High Executioner. So now you have no power whatsoever."

The former high executioner collapsed. Sarah knelt beside him. "Consider yourself lucky that I abhor bloodshed, or I'd be having you tried and executed for treason." She straightened, moving back towards her husband, ignoring the sobbing wretch behind her. The smell of urine was suddenly thick in the air, making it obvious that the man had pissed himself. "Not so brave when he's not beating up prisoners in shackles, is he?"

Jareth's head rocked back and he laughed. "Indeed, precious, indeed." He extended a hand, pleased when she set her hand trustingly upon her own. "How did you know you could strip him of his powers? After all, he's not technically under our jurisdiction," Jareth looked amused by this.

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a patient look. "I stripped yours almost fifteen years ago. You had no power over me back then. Even after I placed myself in your prison voluntarily, you still acted like I was the one in control. Consider it an attitude thing. If I can cow one powerful fae monarch, why not a power-hungry wimp of an executioner."

He laughed again, kissing her hand. "Just so, my dear."

"Queen Sarah," A voice from the gallery called, and they looked up, finding Oberon looking down upon them.

Sarah gave a curtsey, and watched as Jareth bowed. "Lord King."

He arched a brow at the way she addressed him, but didn't comment upon it. "You've shown courage and compassion here today. Tell me, do you intend to return this one's kingdom to him?"

Sarah turned towards Jareth, inclining her head. Jareth smiled faintly, and then glanced up at Oberon. "We've discussed it, and let's just say that for now, I intend to enjoy my retirement for awhile longer. I'll be taking up the mantle of instructor as well as husband, and teaching the new queen all the ins and outs of ruling the kingdom. But not with the title King. I gave Sarah the medallion with the intention of her being the ruling power of the Goblin Kingdom."

They smiled at each other, ignoring the other fae as they left the gallery, and Jareth lifted Sarah's hand, kissing it. "My dear, we're going to have to see to it that we have a proper wedding before too much longer. Or the courts will be calling for both of our heads."

She smiled warmly at him and leaned forward, putting her lips near his ear. "Do you think we could take the rest of the day to ourselves before immersing ourselves into all the ins and outs of the Goblin Kingdom?"

He laughed outright, embracing her tightly. Then, he drew her close, a wicked smile on his face. "My dear, I'm much more interested in getting to know the finer points of your body better. Shall we go?"

"Your place or mine?"

"Yours, of course. The royal suite is much more comfortable here," he transported them into the castle, and both of them yelped a bit when an ear splitting cry went up.

"SURPRISE!"

Sarah and Jareth looked at each other and then around the throne room, littered as it was with goblins, chickens, and other things. Ludo and Sir Didymus stood at Hoggle's side, and Tribane stood nearby them, watching the goblins play with a faint smile on his face.

She leaned towards Jareth and lightly kissed his cheek. "I suppose we'll have to put our nefarious plans on hold for now..." she said softly.

"Suppose so," he agreed, nuzzling her. "What do you say towards letting your family in on this particular welcome home party?"

She looked at him in surprise, lips parting a bit. "Really?"

He smiled at her. "Darling, I thought you understood. You're not a prisoner here. You're the ruler. You'll be able to visit your family and realm at your leisure whenever you chose." He smirked a bit. "Just don't forget the family here while you do."

"Never," she promised, pressing up and kissing him passionately on the lips, drawing cheers from the goblins and friends that were gathered around them.

_AN: Thanks to all the readers who've stuck with it this long (This one took awhile, due to the situations of myself and my beta, and the loss of two computers .;) As a reward, here's an excerpt from chapter 1 of my next story "The Goblin King's Daughter"._

_Fear became panic and Sarah felt her throat close. "No," she whispered, unable to speak louder. She moved to grab her child, but her body froze, and she couldn't move. She tried, she tried hard, but her body was stuck. She couldn't move a muscle, nor use her voice. Tears filled her eyes at the seeming hopelessness of the situation._

_The creature moved towards her, resting a hand upon her shoulder. A shudder worked through her as those fingers squeezed slightly. The touch was surprisingly gentle, like someone seeking to calm a frightened animal. It made her wonder what he viewed her as. The voice that met her ears was faintly accented, quiet._

"_It's nothing personal," the teen said. "However she is necessary for our plans, so I shall take her." That hand squeezed faintly. "It would be best if you forget what happened here tonight."_

_She could do nothing except watch as her daughter was lifted out of her bed and the young man walked towards the window. She wanted to rage, to scream out her fury. No one takes her daughter to the fairy realms. The spell which held her captive seemed to evaporate and she moved instantly, running towards where the threat stood. With her ability to move came her voice. She didn't bother restraining the cry that left her. "ERIN!"_

_The child woke instantly at the sound and volume of her voice and shifted, looking over her captor's shoulder. "Mom? MOM!" Her struggles must have taken the fae by surprise, because he gasped softly. Then, he tightened his grip on her, and suddenly black mist was swallowing them. As they disappeared, she got the faintest impression of black wings, and a few feathers fell to the bedroom floor._

_Tears fell down her face and she trembled in shock as her knees gave and she fell to the floor, right where her daughter had vanished. Those black feathers rested right in front of her. Her hands curled into fists and she struck the floor furious, a scream of pain and frustration leaving her lips._

_A moment later the rage within her turned cold. She rose from the floor slowly, bringing those feathers with her. Her steps were measured as she returned to her bedroom and she walked to her closet, pulling down a padded leather jerkin that was a throwback from her acting days. A poets' shirt followed, dug from the depths, as well as a pair of leather trousers._

_She stripped from her pajamas, then dressed carefully, ran a brush through her hair until the mass of dark strands shone. She pulled them up and away from her face, fashioning a messy ponytail that more hair hung out of than stayed contained._

_Digging in her closet some more, she found her amber pin, as well as a pair of sturdy riding boots. The riding boots went on first, followed by the pin. A quick rummage through her drawer and she found her little red book with its gold letters. She swallowed hard, tucking it into the jerkin, and then pulled a tiny ring from her trinket box._

_She glanced into the mirror, deciding that she was as good as ready. She had her game face on, and she was dressed for battle. Thirteen years to the night since she'd last heard his voice, and even that wasn't actually real. She wasn't certain she could handle this._

_She was, however, certain that she didn't have any other options._

_Finally, taking an unsteady breath, she spoke, "Jareth, I need you."_


End file.
